


I Await A Protector

by OswaldThatEndswald



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: (eventually) - Freeform, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Bad Puns, Fem!Harry, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Goblins, I don't understand Undertale canon so I'm making my own, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rated T for Trashmouth, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Severus Snape Bashing, he doesn't deserve my kindness, let the eleven year old say fuck, mild Dumbldore bashing?, probably also pretty mild
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 21:20:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 26,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21835483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OswaldThatEndswald/pseuds/OswaldThatEndswald
Summary: Harriette Potter doesn't know how she managed to cast a master-level Patronus charm without any knowledge of magic. Sans the skeleton doesn't know how he is being summoned past the Barrier to act as a protector for a lonely young witch. But here they are, both out of their depths. Neither of them is going to let that stop them.Hogwarts is completely unprepared to deal with this duo.[ON HIATUS]
Comments: 231
Kudos: 497





	1. So It Begins

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Sans The Patronus](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6096321) by [hollowsbest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollowsbest/pseuds/hollowsbest). 



> This is a remix of goddoggo's fic Sans The Patronus, which is a discontinued fic that I adored. I highly recommend it, though it's not actually necessary to read this. But why would you let that stop you?
> 
> Happy reading!

Harri scrambled around a fence into a large park, her breath fast and panicked. Dudley's gang had decided to spend their evening chasing her through the neighborhood, and though she wasn't sure what they'd do if they caught up with her, she certainly didn't want to find out. The sounds of pursuit had begun to fade a few blocks ago, and Harri hoped that they'd grown bored of her. As she came into view of the small playground nestled at the centre of the park, she stumbled to a stop under a large tree, trying to catch her breath.

It had always been forcefully made clear to her that she meant absolutely nothing to the Dursleys. Now that Dudley had collected a group of friends to torment her, she truly believed that she was insignificant to the rest of the world as well. A sob caught in her throat, then her tears began to fall freely.

All she wanted was to be loved. Desperately, she wished that she had someone- even one person- who cared about her. To whom she was more than just a momentary distraction. She wanted a friend.

Closing her eyes, she let herself imagine it. A protector. Someone who wanted her to be happy and safe. Someone who - she dared to think - would love her.

"hey, kiddo," said a low voice, startling in its gentleness. "you're looking pretty bone-ly."

Harri started, looking around for the source of the voice. When she saw the only other person in the small park, she almost screamed.

In front of her, there stood a grinning skeleton, glowing silver-blue. He had appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

She tried to back away, but tripped over a tree root, and fell painfully. Gravel dug into her palms, almost breaking skin.

"don't worry!" the skeleton said, holding up his hands. Harri could see in between his bones. It didn't seem to be some sort of trick, or like it was fake. "i'm not going to hurt you. just wondering what a kid like you is doing all alone." He looked up at the sky, and the stars, and although his grin didn't fade, something else came into his expression.

"You're glowing," Harri said tremulously, the words coming out unbidden. "You're a skeleton."

The skeleton looked at himself. "so i am." He shoved his hands into his pockets. "say, kiddo, can you tell me- is this the surface?"

"The surface? Of what?" Harri said, eyes growing wide.

The skeleton rubbed the side of his head, and closed his eyes. "don't worry about it. man, i've forgotten my manners, huh?" He held out a hand. "i'm sans. sans the skeleton."

Gingerly, Harri shook his hand. "I'm Harri. Harri the... human?"

Sans laughed, a rattling sound that shook his whole body. Then he looked at her closer. "do you mind telling me how i got here? i was back home, and then suddenly, poof!” He animated the sound with hands. “i was here. did someone summon me?"

Harri swallowed. She was going to get in trouble again, she just knew it. "I don't know, Mr. Sans. I'm sorry." Closing her eyes, she tried to hold back tears.

"no, hey, kiddo- don't cry," Sans said, coming closer and pulling the little girl into a careful hug. She was so small that he was still taller than her. "i'm not mad at you; i'm just confused. it takes someone pretty strong to cast whatever spell brought me here. is there anyone else around?"

Harri shook her head. Sans let out a sharp breath, and leaned back against the tree. He thought about closing his eyes and going to sleep; maybe he would wake up to find that this was just a really weird dream. But then a thought occurred to him. He looked back over at the small girl currently watching him with wide, nervous eyes. "did you summon me?" There shouldn't have been any way a child so young could have summoned him but stranger things had happened.

Shaking her head vehemently, Harri leaned away from Sans. "I'm not strong enough to do anything special."

Sans frowned. That wasn't the sort of attitude a kid should have. "everyone can do special things, kiddo."

"Not me," Harri said with a shrug, looking down.

Gently, Sans reached out and took one of Harri's hands. The glow that enveloped his entire body flared brighter suddenly, lighting up the park in its intensity. "i'd say i have a gut feeling that you're wrong, but i don't have guts."

The light reflected in Harri's eyes. "You mean... I'm doing that?" She didn’t know what the glow meant (neither did Sans, for that matter) but just touching it made Harri feel better.

"yup."

"How?" Harri ran a hand through the light, watching it curl around her like a puppy begging for attention. She looked up at Sans again. "Is it bad?"

"no way. it's super cool." Sans felt his heart ache. Why was such a lively, powerful little girl so unhappy? With a quick gesture, he created a handful of bones, and arranged them into the shape of a floating heart. "see? i can do it too."

Harri's gasp of gleeful astonishment hung in the air. But as she reached out to touch the bones, they began to fade. She looked to Sans. His glow had dimmed as he began to fade too. "Wait! Don't go!"

"sorry, kiddo," he said. "looks like the spell's ending. don't worry- i'll be back when you call."

And with that, he vanished.

\---

Harri curled up in her cupboard. Her uncle's angry words still burned in her ears. Coming home late had resulted in a scalding lecture, and no dinner. For once, though, the shame she felt wasn't the first thing on her mind. Instead, she couldn't stop thinking about the skeleton she had... summoned? Sans.

He had hugged her. And said she could do things. He'd acted like she mattered to him. And now that he was gone, she missed him.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to figure out how she had made him appear the first time. She had imagined kindness, love, protection. She closed her eyes and focused on those feelings again. Hoping against hope, she pictured Sans appearing again, with his glow and his grin, and his warm, bony hug.

But nobody came.

As she squeezed her eyes closed to hold back tears, she could have shouted with frustration. Sans had promised. He'd said that if she called, he would come. He'd promised.

"hey, kiddo?" said a quiet, quiet voice. "Are you in there?"

Harri spun to the door. A faint blue light shone through the vent. "Sans?" she whispered, desperate not to wake the Durselys.

There was a quiet sound of metal on metal as Sans unlocked the door to the cupboard. "what are you doing in there? who locked you in?" His eyes were absolutely black, without any of the playful light in his pupils.

"It's my room," Harri explained. "I have to stay inside until Aunt Petunia lets me out. I came home too late."

There was a long still silence as Sans processed her words. "move over, then. i think there's enough room for both of us."

Harri moved to the side, and Sans squeezed into the small space beside her. She watched as he examined the cupboard, a frown growing on his face. "Is something wrong?" Harri asked.

Sans' eyes dimmed. "this isn't a proper room for a kid," he said. He couldn't stop his confusion and frustration from seeping into his voice. "it's so small. and where are your toys?" Comparing her room to Papyrus' was inevitable. He thought of his little brother's display of action figures, his racecar-shaped bed, the bookshelves from which Papyrus could pick out his bedtime story. The bed alone was larger than Harri's tiny cupboard.

Harri, meanwhile, was thinking about Dudley. Sans' genuine concern sparked a forbidden thought. Dudley had two bedrooms, and more toys than he ever played with. She wondered what it was, exactly, that made her unworthy of such things. Her uncle called her a freak, but what was it precisely that set her apart from them?

"Sans?" she said.

He mussed her hair. "yeah?"

"How did I summon you?"

"oof, big question." Sans leaned back, resting against the wall. "short answer? magic. but i don't know exactly how you did it. if you'd like, i can ask some of my friends. it'll be some work, and i'm not usually up for that, but i wouldn't mind spell-ping you."

Harri laughed, a quiet sound. "That's a terrible joke!" As Sans laughed too, a thought came to her mind. "So then... you can do magic too? And your friends?"

"yup. everyone I know can do magic, because we're monsters. it's rarer for a human to be able to use it." He gave her a real smile. "you're pretty special, kiddo."

"Magic isn't bad, then?" Harri grew nervous, looking down at her hands. "It doesn't make me a freak?"

Someone was in for a bad time. Sans was absolutely sure of that. But right now, he needed to be comforting Harri, even if he'd rather be blowing whoever had made her sad into dust. "you're not a freak. you're a mage, harri. and mages are special." He made a decision, suddenly. "tell you what. you summon me again during the day, and i'll teach you how to use your magic so that you can do some of the things i can."

Harri's eyes practically glowed with joy. "You will?"

"yeah, of course." Sans yawned. "but first, i need some sleep.” Gently, he poked her nose. “and so do you. i guess it’s time for you to send me home."

"How do I do that?" Harri asked reluctantly.

Sans hesitated. Harri made a good point. Sans didn’t actually know how her magic worked, only that it was very different than a monster’s magic. The first time, the accidental nature of the spell had meant that it faded away on its own, but this more intentional spell was going to be a bit trickier. Intent mattered to magic.

And that gave him an idea.

“try focusing on the spell,” Sans suggested, “and then, uh… turning it off?”

Harri laughed. “Like a light?” Sans was sure she meant it as a joke, but it was actually a fairly effective analogy.

“exactly. you got this.” Harri’s eyes lit up at the encouragement, and she furrowed her brow in concentration. The silvery glow around Sans flared, and then began to dim. “just like that!” he said, as he began to fade. “you’re a natural.”

The last thing he saw before the scenery around him blurred, and then changed completely, was Harri’s huge smile, and he felt guilt rise up in his chest.

\---

Sans couldn't support Harri and Papyrus at the same time.

He could take care of both of them, but it meant jumping between them. Kids deserved to have protectors all the time, not someone who had to magically split his time between them and another. He'd figured out that when Harri summoned him, his body simply fell asleep in the underground- which raised some really interesting questions about what that spell actually was- which meant that he was still somewhat present to papyrus while he was with Harri. She had no such comfort.

The picture he had been able to paint of Harri's home life was a dark one. And it made him angry, but more than that, he was furiously guilty. He couldn't fix it. He would take her to the Underground if he could, and yet he knew that it would be even more dangerous for her than her current home. She was human, and with only one soul more needed to break the Barrier, it was too dangerous for him to even consider smuggling her in.

But that didn't mean he could leave her defenseless. He was going to teach her magic, he had decided, and make sure that she was powerful enough that no one, whether they were her odious family or Asgore, would be able to hurt her. He might not be the best teacher, but she was powerful. It would be enough. It had to be, if only to soothe the pain eating away inside him.

The front door crashed open. "SANS!" his brother shouted, forcing Sans' mind away from his dilemma. "I HAVE RETURNED FROM UNDYNE'S HOUSE! ARE YOU AWAKE?"

"oh, hey bro," Sans said, leaning on the arm of the couch. "how was your playdate?"

"IT WAS NO SUCH THING!" Papyrus said indignantly. "IT WAS A TRAINING SESSION! UNDYNE IS A ROYAL GUARD, AND SHE'S TEACHING EVERYTHING SHE KNOWS."

"cool. what did she teach you today?" Sans didn't know how he felt about Papyrus joining the guard. It was his brother's biggest dream, but it could also be dangerous. Not usually, but things always became.... interesting when a human fell into the underground. That hadn't happened since Sans was a small child, but he remembered it clearly.

"HOW TO MAKE SPAGHETTI!" Papyrus said. Sans tried not to let his relief show. It seemed that Undyne felt the same way about Papyrus that he did. "IT IS AN IMPORTANT WARRIOR'S SKILL."

"you'll have to-mato me some for dinner,” Sans said. As Papyrus wailed, Sans stood up and stretched, chuckling at his brother’s expense. “what? is that such an im-pasta-ble request?”

Continuing to make (increasingly worse) puns while his brother complained, Sans came to a decision. It wasn’t possible to take care of Papyrus and Harri at the same time, but he was going to do it anyway.

Yeah, this was going to be interesting.


	2. Time Passes and Things Happen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I managed to get this out earlier than my self imposed deadline!
> 
> For one reason and another, this chapter involves some fairly large timeskips. I certainly could write non-plot related fluffy oneshots, if there's any interest in that, but for this fic I'm trying to stick to the plot. Mostly because I really want to write Hogwarts shenanigans.
> 
> If you're interested in Sans and Harri bonding, there's a lot of that in the fic that this is based on, and it is adorable.
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who has already read this. Your feedback is what drove me to get this out so much sooner than expected, and it brings me so much joy every time I see that someone new has bookmarked or kudos-ed or commented.
> 
> Happy reading!

Sans still had no idea how Harri was summoning him. He'd asked Gerson, Asgore, and, in desperation, read through every book on magic he could dig up, including the ones in his basement laboratory. But no answers had arisen, and Asgore had started dropping in to check on him. Which had gotten old very quickly.

On the bright side, Harri had begun to blossom under his care. She had taken to the skeleton magics Sans had begun teaching her like a fish to water. He'd started with dodging, simply because it was mostly physical skill, besides small amounts of magic to sense intent and increase speed. Despite all his concerns about the compatibility of her magic and his, she had been able to use magic easily whenever he showed her how.

But the spell that she used to summon him was still the only magic she'd used on her own. It seemed like she truly was untrained, despite how powerful she was.

"Sans!" Harri's voice was bright and trusting, so unlike the fear that had permeated it when they'd first met. He looked over to her, guilty at having been distracted.

A bright blue bone hovered in between her hands. "I did it!" she said, practically glowing with pride.

Actually... Sans looked at her more closely. He wasn't imagining it. Her green eyes glowed faintly with blue flames. Just like his.

"wow," he managed to say through his shock. "tibia honest kiddo, i hadn't expected you master that so quickly. you’re really good at this!"

The bone dematerialized as Harri gave Sans a sudden, tight hug. He stood frozen for a moment, and then wrapped his arms around her. Despite the fleshy stuff covering her skeleton, she felt more fragile than Papyrus. Maybe it was because she was younger.

Sans squeezed her gently, then let go and stepped back. "hey, how's your family doing?"

Harri grinned, and she had definitely learned that particular smile from him. "They tried to lock me in my room without food, but I told them I would inform the authorities that they were neglecting me, like you said, and then they all went really quiet and didn't yell at me even once for the rest of the day!"

"perfect," Sans said. He hesitated. "you know to tell me if they ever try to hurt you, right?"

Nodding soberly, Harri wrapped her arms around herself. Sans almost flinched, seeing her look distressed. He ran a hand through her messy hair, further destroying any semblance of order it might have had. Harri laughed, and batted his hand away, uncurling and relaxing. Deciding that he'd accomplished his mission, Sans stretched exaggeratedly.

"so you can create blue bones," he said, summoning one, "but can you dodge an attack that uses one?"

Harri bounced into position a few feet away from him. "Just stay still and they won't touch you, right? Like a t-rex!"

Sans thought about asking what a t-rex was. He decided against it.

\---

Time passed, each day an eternity and each year over as soon as it had begun. Harri grew, Papyrus grew, Sans grew. Every time Sans saw Harri, he wished- vaguely, with the painful knowledge that it could never happen- that he could bring her to the underground with him, introduce her to Papyrus. He'd grown up with a little brother; now he had a baby sister too. It just so happened that she was a different species and lived on the other side of an impenetrable magical barrier.

Y'know. Little things.

But as Harri grew, she gained confidence, and enough snark to rival Sans. Her family backed off, and by the time she was ten, they had mostly left her to her own devices. (Sans appearing the single time Veron had threatened her and summoning a large number of bones had probably had something to do with that.)

But if Sans was being honest, he had been wondering why a kid with magic was all alone. He'd heard about the supposed accident that had taken Harri's parents from her. Maybe they'd had magic, but he didn't know, and her aunt and uncle sure weren't going to tell him (which was probably for the best. He suspected that if he were left in a room with them for too long, they would have a very bad time). Since he didn't know how he would even begin finding other humans with her sort of magic to answer his questions, he had no choice but to keep doing things his way.

But everything went pear-shaped right around Harri's eleventh birthday.

\---

Harri dumped a copious amount of syrup on her small pile of pancakes, listening to her relatives talk about Dudley's new school, Smeltings. It sounded dreadful, and apparently encouraged fighting among students. Dudley had looked at Harri once whilst brandishing his new school stick, blanched, and kept it far away from her.

Harri was going to the nearest public school, so as to cause the least amount of trouble to the Dursleys's. No one was particularly interested in discussing her school. Harri wasn't even entirely certain what it was called. She was, however, very excited not to be going to school with Dudley anymore. Without his interference, she had a chance at making some friends.

Well. Friends who weren't magical skeletons.

The letter box opened, and Harri heard letters fall limply onto the front doormat. Vernon glared at her, and then said, tightly, "Get the post, Harriette."

Harri levelled a look at Vernon that she'd learned from Sans (as it happened, smiling the right way could be positively terrifying), and went to grab the letters, stifling laughter as Vernon's eye twitched.

She flipped through the letters as she picked them up. Bill, postcard from Marge (yikes), and a letter, clearly addressed to her in spiky handwriting.

Now, such a thing was not merely unusual, it was positively unheard of. She simply didn't have anyone who would be interested in writing to her. But the letter was so precisely addressed that she really couldn't explain it away.

...How did they know that she lived in the cupboard under the stairs?

She needed Sans, but Vernon would get suspicious if she didn't come back with the rest of the mail soon. So she tucked the letter into her waistband, and returned to the table, handing over the other letters. Vernon took them without a word of thanks, and started reading the postcard.

As he talked about Marge's vacation, Harri let her mind wander. The letter was made of a thick, heavy material that practically oozed money. So it was important, but the emerald ink and purple wax seal didn't seem to be particularly professional, despite the fancy coat of arms on the seal. The only think Harri could imagine was that it was some sort of invitation to a fancy party, like she'd seen in a historical movie at school once, but that simply begged the question of who would invite her.

She stood up, clearing her plate, and informed her aunt and uncle that she was heading to the park to enjoy the summer while it lasted. They didn't argue, probably happy to get her out of the house.

Harri practically ran to the park, afraid that her aunt and uncle would somehow realize that she was hiding something and drag her back. But Dudley was very insistent that he was too old to play there, so he wouldn't follow her, making it the safest place she could think of. She vaulted the fence, shockingly agile for an almost-eleven year old.

When she was safely hidden amongst a copse of trees, she took a breath and summoned Sans.

\---

Sans dozed at his sentry post, wondering how Papyrus had managed to convince Undyne to let both of them into the Royal Guard. For that matter, how had Papyrus convinced him to join the Royal Guard.

(Sans knew perfectly well how he'd done it.)

But the thrum of familiar energy in the back of his skull woke him up as quickly as a snowball down the back of his coat. Harri's magic felt insistent, but not panicked. Sans laid his head down on his arms, and closed his eyes.

And then he was in the park where he and Harri had met, glowing silver-blue once more.

"hey, kiddo," he said with a wink, "relatives arbore-ing you?"

"That's terrible!" Harri wailed, looking up at the trees.

"should i just leaf you alone?"

"Even worse!"

"come on kid, you're all bark and no bite," Sans chuckled. "so, what's really up? you seem a little too tense for this to just be a casual visit."

Harri looked around, probably making sure that Dudley hadn't followed her for fun. Then she pulled out her letter. "Someone sent this to me. It looks really fancy, and I kind of thought it might be a mistake? But the address is so specific that it's kind of scary." Her eyes flickered around the trees surrounding them again, and Sans realized that she wasn't looking for Dudley; she was making sure her mysterious letter sender wasn't spying on her. And looking at the address on the letter, Sans couldn't blame her.

"Miss H. Potter  
The Cupboard under the Stairs  
4 Privet Drive  
Little Whinging  
Surrey"

Sans read the address aloud. Harri was right. That was too specific for comfort. It was the sort of thing no one outside the family would know unless they'd been watching Harri and her relatives, possibly even going as far as breaking into the house. When he looked up and saw Harri's wide eyes, filled with obvious worry, he knew that she understood all of this.

He made a decision, and handed her back the letter. "you've gotta open it."

Harri's hands trembled slightly as she took it. "Why? Shouldn't we just ignore it?"

"i think it's better to know what we're up against," Sans said, for once serious.

Taking a deep breath, Harri nodded and ripped open the envelope, tearing the seal. She began to read the letter.

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Miss Potter,  
We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment." (Harri took this opportunity to wave the second piece of paper that had been inside the envelope)  
"Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall  
Deputy Headmistress"

Harri and Sans stared at each other. For several heartbeats, there was silence. Then Sans said, apparently in a state of shock, "well, owl be damned."

"How can you make jokes right now?" Harri burst out, genuinely upset. "This is so... so..." She gesticulated.

"owl-t of this world?" Sans offered.

Harri looked torn between laughing and skewering Sans with as many bones as she could summon.

"seriously, what's with that? 'we await your owl'? what is that supposed to mean?" Sans shrugged, and Harri handed him the letter. "and this list of materials? where on earth would you buy this stuff?" He sighed, smile fading. "to be honest, kiddo, i've been wondering about other... witches and wizards for a while now. but this is not how I expected them to show up. it's certainly a... spellbinding introduction."

Harri glared at him, and took the letter back. "We don't know how to reply to them, even assuming that this isn't some sort of bizarre scam or prank or trap or something. There's nothing we can do to-" she stared Sans down- "address this."

Sans' eyelights glowed brighter. "That's my kiddo," he said with a smile.

\---

Most would say that Minerva McGonagall was a very patient woman. And usually, they'd be right. But after eleven years of letting Dumbledore have his way, her nearly infinite reserve of patience had proved finite.

"You are not sending Hagrid," she said bluntly.

"He is the one who brought her from Godric's Hollow," Dumbledore said. "It will bring things full circle if he is the one to ensure that she is attending Hogwarts. And," he added, with a gentle smile, "I know he would like to see her again."

McGonagall drew herself up to her full height. "Have you completely forgotten what sort of muggles her odious relatives are?" she hissed. "They will not react well to Hagrid, no matter how well- meaning he is."

"Minerva, it has been eleven years! You cannot know what they will be like."

"But I can guess. And I refuse to endanger Harri if a confrontation goes badly. At best, they could ban her from studying magic. This situation requires delicacy, Albus. That is simply something that Hagrid does not have!" She pinched the bridge of her nose, just above her glasses.

"Well, then," Dumbledore said. "What do you suggest?"

McGonagall narrowed her eyes. She knew that tone. That was Dumbledore's manipulating tone. Not necessarily malicious, it simply meant that he had a plan that was falling into place. "You want me to go."

Dumblefore did his best impression of innocence. "You would make a good, shall we say, ambassador for the school," he offered. "Besides, you are also concerned for the girl, are you not?"

McGonagall rubbed her temple. "I'll go now." Changing into her cat form between steps to avoid questions, she headed through the school, and beyond the spells that prevented apparation. Returning to her human form, she took a moment to adjust her hair and clothes. Appearance mattered, no matter whether one was a muggle or not.

With that, she apparated directly onto the front step of number four, Privet Drive and knocked briskly. It was opened moments later by a sour-looking woman eyeing her disapprovingly, who McGonagall recognized as Petunia Dursley. "Can I help you?" she asked.

McGonagall gave her a look of equal distaste, and said, in her most commanding voice, "I am looking for Miss Harriette Potter."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, TL;DR, Harri can use monster magic, she's a little bit savvier than Harry when it comes to sneaking, and McGonagall is about to unlease hell on the Dursleys.
> 
> As to why McGonagall is the one dealing with the Dursleys rather than Hagrid: she's said most of it already, but it just bugs me that Dumbldore seems to make all of his plans entirely based on sentiment and McGonagall just... lets him? She is the Deputy Headmistress- surely that position must come with some power, not to mention the responsibility to ensure that the school is represented well.
> 
> Another reason for the change is that... well, things have changed. I'm assuming that there is some magic that allows the Hogwarts administration to tell which potential students have read their letters, and although in most circumstances, a student not replying to their letter would simply be cause to send a second letter requesting a confirmation of attendance, Harri is most certainly not 'most'. Having a senior administrator dealing with the situation seems logical.
> 
> And finally, I just love McGonagall. I feel no need to justify this, and I am definitely going to give her more than her fair share of screen time.
> 
> If you have any questions concerning the world-building or logic of this fic, please comment!!! I would love nothing more than to be able to talk about the world I've created for this fic (much of which won't ever see the light of day, because it's pretty irrelevant to the story I'm telling) without feeling guilty about filling up the notes.
> 
> By the way, a huge thank you to insignificantramblings for beta-ing (can I use that as a verb?) both this chapter and the last one. All my love to you for your help.
> 
> Once again, the next chapter should be out within a fortnight.


	3. A Meeting and A Trip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not like this chapter. I really really really don't like it. There's no particular reason for this (although the lack of Sans may be part of it), but it took me far longer than I would have liked to write it, and I'm very bitter about this. However, it's still out before the deadline, so all's well that ends well. Also, this chapter taught me that I really can't reliably tell how much time each chapter is going to cover, since it's doesn't even hit half the plot points it was supposed it. So although I'd like to promise that Sans be in the next chapter, I'm afraid that even I don't know what's going to happen.
> 
> By the way, there's a few lines in here taken directly from either the book or the Harry Potter wiki, so obviously I don't own those. Also, I never realized how little I knew about Harry Potter until I started having to look up things like the ingredients in Butterbeer and the exact definition of Apparition.
> 
> Happy reading!

The woman at the door stared down Petunia Dursley. "I am looking for Miss Harriette Potter," she informed her, in a voice that permitted no argument.

Petunia wasn't sure what it was, but something about the stranger set her teeth on edge. "And why should I help you? I don't even know your name."

"Forgive my rudeness," the woman said. "My name is Minerva McGonagall, the deputy headmistress at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I was sent to confirm whether or not Harriette will be coming to school in September - as of yet we haven’t received a response from her.”

Trepidation rose inside Petunia, and she opened her mouth to inform the woman that she had the wrong address, but there was a gasp in the hallway leading to the kitchen. Looking over, Petunia saw Harriette. The girl was pale, and had bunched her hands into fists at her sides.

She was scared.

Petunia was certain then that somehow, the child had gotten her letter, and hidden it from the family. But perhaps she was just as disturbed by the thought of magic as the Dursleys were. Perhaps Vernon had succeeded, as he'd always hoped to, in crushing any magic the child might have had before it became an issue.

Triumphant, Petunia turned back to the self-proclaimed professor. "I'm afraid that is because she has refused her place at the school. Thank you for your visit, now-"

"Wait." The interruption came from Harriette, her small voice raised slightly to cut through Petunia's words. She trembled a little as she walked close enough to be seen by McGonagall. The little girl drew herself up, and met the woman's eyes. "How did your school know where I slept?" she asked defiantly. "Are you watching me?"

She should have seen this coming, Petunia realized. The girl was too outspoken, too unruly to simply let the woman leave and return to her normal life. She had to confront the strangeness of magic. Petunia wanted to rage at the unfairness of it. The girl couldn't simply be a thorn in their sides, no. She had to drag the unnatural world of her parents into the Dursleys' home.

McGonagall looked startled, losing her unflappable composure. "No, of course not. A charm is used to address all Hogwarts letters as directly as possible."

"So you can use magic to find out where I live? That's creepy."

Petunia was sure she was imagining the faint blue glow in Harriette's eyes.

\---

Although McGonagall didn't particularly want to know how Harriette had become such a nervous, pessimistic young woman, she was determined to find out. She could almost feel the child's fear.

Wait. She could feel it. She could feel magic crawling on her back, weighing on her neck, all coming from Harriette. Abruptly, she realized that the situation was more dangerous than she had guessed. She needed to defuse it.

"I'm sure you have no reason to trust me," she said calmly. "But rest assured, Hogwarts doesn't misuse magic. We are a school. Our duty is to teach young witches and wizards to handle magic responsibly and competently."

At that, McGonagall felt Harriette's magic subside slightly. There was an almost guilty feeling to the action. "Most students at Hogwarts who grow up in families who don't have magic are sent a letter explaining the situation along with their acceptance letter. It was wrongfully assumed that you would already have this information." McGonagall resisted the urge to glare at Petunia, especially when the woman twitched angrily.

Pensive, Harriette furrowed her brows. She looked up at her aunt. "Were my parents magic?"

Petunia reared back, as though she'd been scalded by the words. " Your parents, girl, were exactly the sort of people you shouldn't be. Like this woman." Her gestured bordered on threatening, but that wasn't what McGonagall took offense to.

"Lily and James Potter were heroes," she said, ignoring the ache that still rose when she thought of her former students. "And they were good people who didn't deserve what happened to them. Did you truly tell her nothing?" She directed her anger at Petunia, trying not to further distress Harriette.

Nevertheless, it was the child that spoke up. "I want to know about them. And I want to know more about magic."

Before McGonagall could reply, Petunia took Harriette by the shoulder and pulled her away from the door. "I don't care what you think, girl, but I will not let you be corrupted by those freaks," she snapped. "You grew up under my roof, and you will not throw away whatever potential you might have had to follow the same path as your parents."

Harriette stiffened, met Petunia's eyes, and pulled away. She raised her chin. "I think that any path would be better than being like you," she said. She stepped out the door, not waiting for McGonagall. As Petunia sputtered, McGonagall gave her a nod, and followed the child.

\---

Harri desperately wanted to call Sans as she turned to face McGonagall. They were far enough away from the Dursleys’ house that she could talk openly without feeling the need to look over her shoulder. But that didn't mean that she felt safe. In fact, she was terrified. But she wanted- no. She needed to learn about magic, and her parents.

The realization that her parents had used magic too had left Harri stunned, and feeling almost desperate. But despite her craving for answers- answers that Sans hadn't had, and that her relatives had refused to give- she had to be cautious. Sans might have believed that the school was legitimate (if unorthodox) but they still frightened her.

"Tell me about my parents," she said.

Minerva McGonagall looked conflicted. "Could we speak somewhere more comfortable?" she asked finally. "You should see some of the magical side of London before you decide whether or not to go to Hogwarts."

It wasn't really a good idea, leaving with a stranger to go who-knows-where, but Harri supposed that she couldn’t really turn back now - she’d already burned that bridge. "Okay. Will you call a cab?"

"I could, but witches and wizards have a much faster form of travel," McGonagall said. "It's called apparition. In concept, it’s fairly simple. It is an instantaneous form of transportation allowing one to move from one point to another without travelling the distance in between. Although," she added honestly, “it is not perfectly safe. Inexperienced witches and wizards will sometimes leave a piece of themselves behind.”

To Harri, apparition sounded much like Sans' teleportation- although, perhaps with more unpleasant consequences. She shrugged. "I'm willing to try it- as long as you’re not going to leave my arm here or something."

McGonagall almost looked relieved, and Harri wondered if the witch actually knew how cabs worked. She held out a hand to Harri, who took it.

Immediately, Harri felt the most awful sensation she had ever experienced. It was something like being squeezed, or maybe folded? No, crushed. She felt the world constrict around her, pressing in on every side. All was darkened, and claustrophobia crept up on her unexpectedly.

But before she had time to become truly frightened, the pressure vanished, and she found herself in a quiet street. She promptly dropped to one knee, trying not to vomit.

"I do apologize," McGonagall said. "I hope the trip was not too unpleasant."

Coughing, Harri stood up shakily. "No, that was awful. Where are we?"

McGonagall gestured to a small, grubby-looking pub. "This is the Leaky Cauldron. It is the most common bridge between the Muggle and magical worlds. I would have preferred to take you directly to Diagon alley, but you should remember this place in case you ever need to travel alone."

It did not particularly stand out, but Harri still diligently looked up at the street signs, memorizing the address. As McGonagall walked towards the door, Harri hesitated. "Aren't I a little young to be going in there?"

"Minors are permitted inside the Leaky Cauldron." McGonagall fixed Harri with a penetrating look. "Perhaps we could have lunch while we talk? I haven't eaten yet, and I imagine you haven't either."

Harri had not, in fact, eaten lunch. Although it could have been a trap, the thought of a meal without the threat of Dudley claiming her food for himself was too tempting to resist. "Thank you," Harri said, quietly.

\--- 

One large meal later, still in the Leaky Cauldron, Harri was still reeling. Her parents had been magic. Her parents had been murdered. Her parents had been heroes.

Also, her relatives had been lying to her for her entire life, but that honestly wasn't much of a surprise.

Oh, and she was famous.

She really just wanted to go home so that she could talk to Sans. Instead, she sipped her drink. What else was she supposed to do, really? And actually, it was pretty tasty. "What did you say this was called?" she asked McGonagall, who was delicately sipping a cup of tea.

"Butterbeer. Non-alcoholic butterbeer," she clarified, looking rather severe. "It's a butterscotch based drink."

Harri licked foam off her lip. It might have been the sweetest thing she'd ever tasted.

Watching Harri, McGonagall looked almost worried. "I hate to press," she began, "but I do need to know whether or not you will be attending Hogwarts. That is technically why I came, although I can stay longer to answer any more questions you have, and help you with your school shopping."

Although Harri had been expecting this question, she didn't really want to answer it now that it had come. "I'd like to go," she said, "but I really can't. I don't have any money. And I don't think Uncle Vernon would give me money to buy-" she looked down at her list- "The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1). Or any of this other stuff. And I don't even know what tuition costs."

"Is that the only reason why you don't feel you can go?" McGonagall asked.

"Yeah. I am grateful for the offer, but it's just not possible."

McGonagall set her tea aside, and pulled a scroll of parchment out of the recesses of her robe. "I have here copies of your parents’ wills," she said. "I won't bore you with the legal terminology, but in short, your tuition was paid for by your parents the day you first showed signs of having magic. And all they had was left to you. You have more than enough money to buy your own school supplies." She almost smiled. "In fact, you could buy all your school supplies for all seven years of schooling, and still have enough money left over to buy a house once you come of age."

Stunned, Harri stared at her. She had gone from relying entirely on her tight-fisted relatives to having enough money to leave them as soon as she was old enough, without having to save up or worry about a job. It was a lot to take in. Apparently today was just full of revelations.

And she wasn't even able to tell Sans yet.

"Thank you," she said awkwardly. "I guess I can go to Hogwarts, then."

"Excellent," McGonagall said, standing. "In that case, we'll need to buy your school supplies. We can stop at Gringotts first- the wizard bank," she added. She hesitated, then turned back to Harri. "Your parents would be proud." There was something unspeakably sad in her eyes as she turned away.

Purposefully, she headed towards the back of the pub, and Harri followed quickly. They stopped in front of an unremarkable brick wall. But McGonagall drew her wand, and purposefully tapped the wall three times. There was a low grumbling of stone against stone, and then the bricks in the wall shuffled themselves to create a door.

Harri could simply watch, mouth agape, in astonishment. Through the door, she saw a street, lined with shops and bustling with people- no, not just people. Witches and wizards, in robes, some carrying wands and levitating their purchases. Harri had never seen so much magic in one place before.

Gesturing out at the street, McGonagall almost smiled at Harri's awe. "Welcome to Diagon Alley.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harri's paranoia has its roots from my own anxiety disorder, and the fact that I project onto every character I write. Don't worry, she'll start feeling better once she gets into a healthier environment with decent people. Sans can only do so much.
> 
> Speaking of Sans, he has definitely taught her to go full Megalovania on anyone who is about to hurt her, so yes, at the beginning she was using Karmic Retribution. He's a bit overprotective. I wonder why...
> 
> The bit in here about Harri's parents' wills started a major discussion between my beta and I about whether or not wizards have lawyers. We each blame the other for starting it. We came to the conclusion that, judging by the trials that we do and don't see, they probably don't exist. Meaning that the legal system lacks an impartial participant. Which is generally agreed to be Not Good.
> 
> In other news, I'm about to start university, so I'm going to add my usual disclaimer that I can't promise this will be out within the fortnight, but that is my goal.


	4. Oh Dear. Shopping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter owes a world of thanks to user Yanna_of_the_Forest, who posted a comment that literally reshaped how I was approaching the entire story, which gave me a boost of inspiration that let me finish the chapter before the deadline despite the pressures of university. So in short, thank you so much. You've literally made this chapter.
> 
> In other news, there is a lot of text and dialogue in this chapter taken directly from the book. I've tried to limit it, but... well, I wrote out the entire required equipment list as it is found in the first book. So I guess I didn't really limit it that much. (Although reading that section as closely as I had to lead to the startling realization that, at least in my edition of the book, a wand is listed twice as required equipment. Which was very discomfiting.) Anyway, I don't own any of that, and I don't claim to.
> 
> You may notice that the rating has changed to T. There's some rather foul language in this chapter. I justify this by the information that Harri hangs around with a young Sans. He definitely swears. She has definitely picked this up.
> 
> Happy reading!

Harri stared slack-jawed at the bustling street. The herds of people passing by like a river were the least of her amazements as she began to look more closely at the shops. Cauldrons: All sizes proclaimed one sign. Robes for all occasions advertised another. As she followed MacGonagall, she saw stores that sold flying broomsticks, potion ingredients, even one store that sold owls. Magic, a secret, rare commodity for her entire childhood, was here commonplace.

MacGonagall glanced at her, making sure that Harri was following close behind, and then began to speak. "Gringotts is this way. I've been temporarily entrusted with the key to your vault, but it will go to you after this."

Still slightly stunned, Harri just nodded, and followed MacGonagall up the marble steps of Gringotts. There was a creature standing by the doors, in a crisp uniform with a tidy beard, to whom MacGonagall gave a cursory nod. "The bank is run by goblins," she explained to Harri.

Harri marvelled at how casually MacGonagall could say something so fantastical. Although her guardian might have been a glowing skeleton, that had by no means prepared her for there to be a whole host of magical creatures. She was increasingly feeling out of her depth. There was a whole world that she had never known about, but was now expected to be a part of. And not an average part, easily learned. No, she was famous amongst these people. They would have expectations of her.

Some of them would hate her.

The realization had frightened her, but it was unquestionable. If this Voldemort’s followers were as devoted as MacGonagall had said, then there would be those angry that he was dead. Not all of them could have been imprisoned; not all of them would have fought. Scheming somewhere were people who wanted revenge.

But Harri had something that none of them would expect. Although everything she'd seen was incredible, there had been nobody like Sans. If worst came to worst, he would protect her. She clung to that reassuring thought.

MacGonagall presented the key to Harri's vault to a goblin, and they boarded a minecart that moved apparently autonomously. They zipped through caves, and passed stalagmites and stalactites, finally stopping at a large door.

The goblin opened it.

Behind the door, there were heaps- no, mountains- of coins, gold and silver and bronze. Harri knelt and picked up one of the gold coins, the largest ones.

"That is a Galleon," MacGonagall explained. "The silver coins are called Sickles, and the bronze ones are Knuts." She began to explain exchange rates, but Harri was only half listening as she scooped up a handful of coins. Letting them run through her fingers like water, they rang as they fell. For the first time since she had gotten that letter, she let herself grin, gleeful and free. She felt like Aladdin in his cave of wonders, surrounded by magic and treasure. She was on an adventure.

MacGonagall handed her a bag, and Harri threw a few handfuls of coins in. She wasn't sure how much money she would need, but she could always go back for more. There was enough. They travelled back to the surface, but before they could leave the bank, Harri saw a group of goblins huddled together in conversation. They glanced at her, and then one of them broke away, heading quickly towards her. He gave her a bow, and then spoke. "Miss Potter?"

She stopped walking. "That's me." MacGonagall eyed the goblin.

He flushed slightly. "Forgive our presumption, but have you been taught magic before? By, well..." He looked back at his compatriots. "By one of us, Miss Potter."

Harri felt like she was seeing the shadow of what he was really asking. "I don't understand."

The goblin clasped long, clever fingers together. "By a magical creature. Your magic feels like-" he sighed abruptly. "Well, miss, we goblins can sense magic. Yours is definitely human, but it feels influenced by something else. Not goblin, I'm afraid, but something truly interesting. My fellows and I were discussing it, but we cannot place it. We hoped that perhaps you would be able to give us an answer."

Harri's eyes widened. It was Sans. They could sense Sans' effect on her. But Sans wasn't a magical creature; he was a monster. Weren't they different? Sans had said that all the monsters had been forced underground after the war between monsters and humans-

-But what if he was wrong? It had been years since that war, and Sans had said himself that he was pretty young. Maybe not all the monsters had fought in the war. Maybe some had stuck around afterwards and tried to live with the wizarding world. She had to ask Sans.

For now, though, she could just shake her head. "I'm sorry," she lied, "I'm not sure what you're feeling."

Looking disappointed, the goblin bowed. "Thank you for your time, Miss Potter." He turned to leave.

"Wait!" Harri said.

He looked back.

"What's your name?" The goblin looked confused. "So that if I figure out what it was you guys were sensing, I can tell you," she explained.

"I'm... Griftneer, Miss Potter."

Harri smiled. "Thank you!" she said brightly, then turned back to MacGonagall.

They headed out into the sunlight, which was almost blindingly bright after the dark bank. MacGonagall seemed perturbed by the conversation between Harri and Griftneer, but she quickly rallied and turned to Harri. "Where shall we head first?"

Harri pulled out her now rather battered letter, and took out the sheet that listed the required equipment.

Uniform  
First year students will require:  
1\. Three sets of plain work robes (black)  
2\. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear  
3\. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)  
4\. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)  
Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags

Set Books  
All students should have a copy of each of the following:  
The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk  
A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot  
Magical Theory by Aldalbert Waffling  
A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch  
One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Arsenius Jigger  
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander  
The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble

Other Equipment  
1 wand  
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)  
1 set glass or crystal phials  
1 telescope  
1 set brass scales

Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

Harri read all this, trying not to laugh. For a magical school, it seemed so normal, and yet... distinctly not. She'd never needed books on magical plants or creatures before.

But a book on magical creatures might be the best start for finding out what the connection between Sans and the goblins might be. "Can we pick up my books?" Harri asked, trying very hard to sound like it was just a whim.

MacGonagall looked pleased. "Of course. Flourish and Blotts will have all of them."

\---

Flourish and Blotts was amazing.

The books were stacked floor to ceiling, nearly spilling into piles. The whole store smelled thickly of leather and old paper and ink, and the variety of books was almost intoxicating. They were all shapes, sizes, materials. There were books bound with silk, books written in languages Harri had never seen, and books that only showed their words if you opened them to the right page.

(Harri was particularly intrigued by a book on curses, and wondered if perhaps she could return later to find a few tricks to get revenge on the Dursleys. For the time being, though, she was certain that MacGonagall would not approve, and so left the book alone.)

Laden with a heavy stack of books, she and MacGonagall headed to a store to buy equipment, where Harri let herself be convinced to buy the required pewter cauldron rather than a solid gold one. The collapsable telescope kept her entertained for a solid five minutes, and the brass scales looked like something that a real wizard would have.

Harri supposed she was a real wizard now- or a real witch, at least. She wasn't sure what the point of the distinction was. Magic was magic. 

The Apothecary smelled terrible, and was only redeemed by the fact that they sold real potion ingredients. Even Harri's basic potions kit (which wasn't required, but MacGonagall said that it was easier than trying to use the potions storeroom) was fascinating.

As they approached Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, MacGonagal laid a hand on Harri's shoulder. Harri looked up at her.

"It takes a while to do fittings," MacGonagall told her, "and I'm afraid I have an important errand to run. Will you be alright if I leave you here while your robe is being fitted?"

What sort of errand was so important that it would force MacGonagall to abandon her, even temporarily, Harri couldn’t imagine. She was not only eleven, but also somewhere entirely unfamiliar. If something happened, Harri wouldn’t even know how to get back to the muggle world.

Nevertheless, Harri nodded, not entirely sure whether she was okay with the idea of being left alone in a strange place, but not comfortable refusing either. So she went into the building alone.

Before she could speak, or even look around, a squat, smiling woman bustled up to her. If Harri had to guess, she would assume this was Madam Malkin.

"Hogwarts, dear?" she asked. "Seems we've got the lot here- there's a young man being fitted up just now."

The young man in question was a pale, sharp-featured boy of Harri's age, who was on the stool beside the one she was told to stand on as Madam Malkin began to pin a robe to the right size on her.

"Hullo," he said. "Hogwarts too?"

"Yes."

He began to talk pompously about his parents, who were apparently off shopping for him. Harri didn't have a particularly high opinion of parents who left their eleven-year old child alone, but what did she know?

Also, it seemed that the boy was a bit of a bully. Harri was reminded of Dudley; this boy had the same spoiled air of pretention.

When the boy asked her a question, Harri almost missed it, busy as she was ignoring him. "Sorry?" she said, matching his self-centered tone.

"I said, do you have your own broom?"

"Of course not. The letter makes it very clear that first years aren't allowed to have one. Actually," Harri mused, "they were very insistent on that. I can't help but wonder what made them such broom-sticklers for rules."

The boy let out a surprised laugh. "That was terrible," he told her, eyes lighting up with humor. For the first time, he didn't look like one of Dudley's friends. "But don't you have one at home?"

Blushing painfully, Harri looked down. "I was raised by- by muggles," she explained. "I only found out about all this magic stuff a few days ago."

As she said the word muggles, the boys cold mask reappeared, now crueller than ever. Just the sight of it made Harri set back her shoulders and straighten her back (making the witch who was fitting her grumble, and start unpinning a section). "So your parents were muggles, then?" he spat.

"Although it hardly matters," Harri declared, "my parents were wizards, and they died in the war, and you're a arse if you think that they would be any less if they didn't have a drop of magic in them. So," Harri met his eyes, and hers flared blue, "go fuck yourself."

"Young lady!" the witch fitting her gasped. Harri sent the boy one last scathing look, and then flipped her hair over her shoulder as the witch gathered up her pins and told her she was finished. She headed into the main area of the shop with her head held high, where she found MacGonagall waiting for her.

And she was holding a large, white, snowy owl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A wild Draco Malfoy has appeared!
> 
> And oh boy did I love writing this scene. I absolutely want to have Draco Malfoy become Harri's friend, but at the moment, he's a bit of an ass. Harri has grown up with a bully, and she's not going to let him get away with such blatant racism. (Is it racism? Muggle-ism? I'm not quite sure what to call Pureblood superiority.) I'm not going to give Draco an easy time with his redemption (yes I am. But not yet).
> 
> This chapter also raises some very important questions. Are monsters and magical creatures the same? If so, why are monsters trapped underground while magical creatures, though often mistreated by wizards, given relatively free rein? What exactly happened in that war so long ago?
> 
> This has become one of the driving questions of the story for Harri (along with how exactly is she summoning Sans). She's probably not going to figure out the answer for a while.
> 
> Oh, also. Yeah, that's Hedwig.
> 
> As usual, I'll probably update within the next two weeks. Probably.


	5. Is That a New Wand, Or Are You Just Happy to See Me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My beta inflicted this horror on me, so I must pass it on to you: Sans is Harri's JoJo stand.
> 
> Any JoJo fans? No? Alright, moving on.
> 
> There's a significant chunk of dialogue and whatnot taken almost verbatim from the original book, so, of course, I own none of that. Standard disclaimer.
> 
> This will be the last chapter where Sans doesn't appear, I promise.
> 
> Happy reading!

Minvera wasn't sure whether or not she should question the defiant anger simmering in every inch of Harriette's body. She looked so much like Lilly in that moment, stepping out into the main room determined to take on anything and everything. Some of that emotion melted away when she saw Minerva- or perhaps more accurately, when she saw the owl Minerva carried.

"A snowy owl?" she said, and her eyes lit up. "You have one? I've heard there's some in Northern Scotland- are you from there? Are you sending a message to someone?"

Now Minerva knew that she couldn't burst the girl's bubble of curious joy by bringing up whatever had upset her. "Actually," she said, slowly and cautiously, "this owl is for you." Gingerly setting the cage on a side table, she handed Harriette the letter that Hagrid had sent with her.

Minerva had almost regretted insisting that she rescue Harriette when she had spoken to Hagrid, though she had done so on a whim, Hagrid had burst into tears as soon as she'd explained Harriette's situation.

"Lilly an' James' kid deserves better," he'd said, blowing his nose loudly into a spotted handkerchief. "I need ta do somethin' for 'er." And thus, after a long conversation that had delayed Minerva rather significantly ("No, Hagrid, brooms are not allowed for first years. Not even James' child.") they'd decided that an owl would not only connect her to the wizarding world, and the school friends she would make, but also give her a companion. A friend.

Reading the letter, Harriette began to tear up. Minerva couldn't blame her. She'd helped write the letter, and the final draft had still left her a bit weepy. Hagrid had taken Harriette from her parents' murder scene eleven years ago, and been forced to leave her in the care of relatives who didn't care about her.

Harriette looked up. "The owl is a birthday present?" Her eyes glimmered with unshed tears. "For me?"

"You can send Hagrid a thank you letter once you're done shopping," Minerva offered. "But first, we need to get you a wand."

From the way Harriette's eyes lit up, Minerva guessed that Harriette had been looking forward to this all day. She carefully picked up the birdcage and smiled at the owl inside. "Where are we going to buy it?"

Guessing that the girl was probably not actually talking to the bird, Minerva answered. "There's only one place for wands, and that's Olivanders." She strode out of the shop, listening to Harriette follow behind her.

Olivanders was close, as most things were in Diagon Alley. It seemed to be empty when Minerva and Harriette walked in, but at this point Minerva knew better. She sat down primly on the only chair to wait. Harriette looked around the shop in awe, setting her birdcage down on a small table.

"Good morning," Ollivander said, as he appeared apparently out of nowhere.

Harriette shrieked, and her owl fluttered its wings at the loud noise. "What the hell, dude?" she said. "Where did you even come from?"

Ollivander smiled mysteriously. (Harriette did not look impressed.) "Ah, Miss Potter," he said, completely ignoring the question. "I'd been expecting you for some time now. Yes, it seems only yesterday that your parents were here, buying their first wands."

"Right, yes. I'd like to know about how to determine the quality of wands," Hariette said. She seemed to have little interest in Ollivander's routine. Minerva was almost impressed.

Looking rather put out, Ollivander retreated to the back room. "Well, Miss Potter," he said. "A wizard does not choose the wand. The wand chooses the wizard. Tell me, which is your wand hand?"

"Uh- I'm right-handed?" Harriette said. She sounded a bit confused. Minerva supposed that she must be trying to guess whether there was a difference between Muggle and wizard ideas of dominant hands.

Ollivander came out from the back with a teetering stack of boxes in his arms, which slumped onto the counter when he put them down. "Try this one," he said, holding a wand out to Harriette. "Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just give it a wave."

Now onto more comfortable ground, Harriette seemed more willing to listen to Ollivander. She waved the wand, not confident but still trying to look like she knew what she was doing. When there was no response, Ollivander took it back.

"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches."

This too, garnered no response, and Ollivander snatched it back.

"No, no. Here, eight and a half inches, ebony and unicorn hair, springy. Go on, try it out."

Harriette tried enough wands that Minerva lost count, and the stack of boxes, tried and untried, spilled from the counter onto the floor. Harriette looked nervous, but more than that, she looked annoyed. Minerva wondered if Harriette thought this was more of Ollivander's show. The old man did look far too gleeful as he tested wand after wand.

"Well, well, well," he said. "Tricky customer, eh? Perhaps... a wand to suit?" He disappeared into one of the halls of shelves again, and reappeared with a box that seemed dustier than the others. "An unusual combination. Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple. Go ahead."

Harriette picked it up, and before she had even waved it, Minerva knew this was the wand. The air shifted, the shop seeming almost to breathe with magic for a moment. And then Harriette brought the wand down in a smooth arc, and it trailed red and gold sparks.

Olivander practically cheered. "Wonderful!" he said. "Oh, my, yes- but oh, curious, curious." Wrapping the box in brown paper, he shook his head. When Harriette showed no interest in asking him what was so fascinating- and Minerva had begun to wonder if she would have to ask, to satiate her own curiosity- he spoke. "I remember every wand I've ever sold, Miss Potter," he said. "This wand has but one brother- a wand with a feather from the same phoenix. It is, yes, very curious that this wand calls to you, when the other..." He shook his head. "Had I known what it would do, well-"

"Just say it," Harriette sighed, pulling out the money for her wand.

"Its brother," Ollivander said, pointing at Harriette's forehead, "gave you that scar."

Minerva inhaled sharply.

"I would say this is an omen, Miss Potter. After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things- terrible," he clarified, "but great."

Harriette fixed him with a look that could melt glass. "From what I've heard," she said, "he mostly just killed people. Any man with a sharp stick can do that. It doesn't need to be a magic stick." She set seven Galleons on the counter and picked up her bird cage.

\---

In the fresh air outside the dusty shop, Harri felt less like summoning one of Sans' blasters and blowing Mr. Ollivander's shop to kingdom come. She didn't like him, and there was a hard lump in her throat. The person who had killed her parents was nothing more than a murderer, who had managed to find a group of people who were as heartless and awful as he was. There was nothing great about it. He hadn't succeeded in his war, he hadn't performed any incredible feats- hell, he couldn't kill Harri when she was a baby! But just because he was really good at using one death spell, people thought he was something special.

"The nerve of that man!" Harri said to her owl. She really needed to give the poor creature a name.

"I take it you didn't find Mr. Ollivander enlightening?" MacGonagall said.

Harri stroked her owl's feathers through the bars of the cage, thinking about the question "He made me realize that it's not just Muggles who think that fancy words can make them special," she said. "Omens. Bleh." She stuck her tongue out. "Also, he's a jerk."

Macgonagall left it at that, apparently realizing that Harri was no in the mood to discuss it.

Taking a deep breath, Harri let go of her anger. "Um," she said, suddenly a little shy, "I saw an ice cream place earlier. Could we maybe go get some?"

As she spoke, MacGonagall's expression softened. "Of course. And it will be my treat." She held up a hand as Harri tried to protest. "After all, it is your birthday."

The ice cream parlour isn't as far away as Harri remembered it being, and there are so many flavours. She hadn't been allowed into an ice cream shop since Dudley's eighth birthday, when it had been unavoidable, and she hadn't been allowed to pick the flavour she wanted either. Now, with more flavours than she could dream of, Harri was practically gleeful.

The proprietor of the shop, Mr. Fortescue, was a kindly man, who offered Harri samples of the ice cream flavours she expressed interest in, while MacGonagall waited patiently. The shop wasn't busy, with most people still browsing, and Mr. Fortescue explained that he would much rather help Harri find the perfect ice cream than try and wait on customers that weren't there.

In the end, Harri picked a scoop of raspberry ice cream and a scoop of chocolate hazelnut, which were jammed into a waffle cone that was really too small for Mr. Fortescue's giant scoops. She and MacGonagall (who had gotten a small scoop of mocha ice cream) sat by the large window, watching the passers-by. With the ice cream enchanted not to melt before it was eaten, Harri could take her time with the giant cone, tasting each flavour separately and together.

"Well, then," MacGonagall said gently. "Do you have any questions for me?"

Harri licked the raspberry scoop, considering. "How do I get to Hogwarts?" she asked, suddenly realizing that she didn't know.

Reaching into her cloak, MacGonagall pulled out a train ticket. "The Hogwarts express leaves from King's Cross station on the first of September."

The ticket made no sense. Harri stared at it, thinking that maybe the number would magically change to be sane, but they stubbornly remained nonsensical. "Professor," she said, "there is no platform nine and three quarters."

"Not for the Muggles, no," MacGonagall said. "However, there is an entrance in the pillar between platforms nine and ten. You can't see it, but if you walk straight at it, you'll go through."

A twinge of nervousness wormed its way into Harri's stomach. "But what if it doesn't work for me?" she said, finally voicing her fears. She was terrified that at some point, the school would tell her that no, this was all a terrible mistake and she was supposed to stay with her family and go to school with everyone else and keep being an outcast.

Except... well, Sans had told her that she was magic. He hadn't been surprised that there were other mages out there, and he said that they would want her. Sans was always right, and he always took care of her. He didn't lie to make her feel better. Which meant that Harri really was meant to go to Hogwarts.

As she was thinking, MacGonagall answered. "Of course it will work," she said, as though the question was absurd. "You're a student, and a witch. Besides, anyone who knows about it can go through."

Hedwig hooted, almost sounding as though she agreed, and Harri laughed.

"Now, what will you name that bird?" MacGonagall said.

"Oh, I had an idea," Harri said. She pulled out one of her books- A History of Magic. "I was flipping through this in the store, and I thought I might use a name from here. And there was one bit that was about a saint who invented a spell that could turn people into animal and back- animaguses!" She flipped to the back of the book, looking for the index. Mumbling page numbers to herself, she missed MacGonagall's look of amused fondness. "Hedwig!" Harri cheered. She reached through the cage to stroke her owl again. "You look like a Hedwig, I think. Pretty bird like you, you deserve the name of a saint, hmm?" She cooed to the bird as it hooted happily.

"I suppose that's settled then," MacGonagall said. "Hello, Hedwig."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell that I don't like Ollivander?
> 
> On a completely different note, anyone who hates Kingdom Hearts should probably flee while they still can. I finally found a copy of 358/2 days, and I have been thinking about nothing else since. And then my beta suggested that I put the characters in this. So, uh... there will definitely be some character appearances. Possibly more than appearances. But I won't be dragging the actual plot of Kingdom Hearts into this, because I'm not completely heartless. I just need to spread my obsession into every inch of my life.
> 
> Having said that, I have no idea when the next chapter will be coming out. I have an essay due on Monday that I haven't even started, and I need to read three books in about the same amount of time. I'll be trying to stick to my usual two week deadline, but... university, man. It's tough.


	6. Family Matters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I'd like to apologize. I said there would be Kingdom Hearts cameos. In retrospect, that was a lie. I am writing them, and so now they are important. Also, there's a bunch of them, and I really hope no one gets overwhelmed. I will try to rein that back in the future.
> 
> To be fair, though, they are the reason you are getting this chapter much earlier than anticipated. That, and the fact that I wrote 2000 words in one sitting while trying to avoid editing a 1000 word paper.
> 
> Anyway, I genuinely like this chapter. I think it finally hits the tone I've been looking for, and it advanced the story.
> 
> Also, Sans is back. Finally. 
> 
> Second, I also have to apologize for the lack of Weasley in this chapter. I'll elaborate at the end, just... don't get your hopes up.
> 
> Think of this as a bonus chapter of sorts, and I'll try to have a proper chapter out soonish.
> 
> Happy reading!

Anyone who knew him would agree that Sans was a very lazy monster. For him, sleeping on the job was less of an anomaly and more of a mission statement. So anyone who had seen him pacing his living room anxiously would undoubtedly have been shocked.

But Sans was worried. Harri had spent most of the day almost summoning him, and then changing her mind and deciding not to. It was an unusual thing for Harri to be so indecisive, and Sans couldn't think of a reason why she wouldn't call him if she had wanted to so badly. All day. He was worried that something could have happened to her- maybe someone was keeping her from summoning him?

"SANS?" Papyrus said from the kitchen.

He didn't answer. Things had been quiet on Harri's end for a few hours now, and the longer he went without any sign from her, the more anxious he grew.

She was alive. He knew that. But that was all he knew

Papyrus wandered in from the kitchen, took one look at Sans, and crossed his arms. "DID MY COMFORTING PEP TALK NOT WORK?" he asked, sounding disappointed.

Feeling guilty, Sans slumped onto the couch bonelessly. Or... not, rather. "it worked for a while, bro. i just got worried again." He rolled onto his back. "she's just so little." He felt the couch sink as Papyrus sat down at the other end, and the words slipped out of his mouth; "i used to worry about you, too."

"OF COURSE YOU DID!" Papyrus said, seeming unsurprised by Sans' admission. "I WAS NOT ALWAYS AS GREAT AS I AM NOW, AND YOU ARE A GOOD BROTHER! IT ONLY MAKES SENSE THAT YOU WOULD WORRY ABOUT ME- AND OUR LITTLE SISTER!"

Sans very nearly fell off the couch. He'd never told Papyrus that he thought of Harri as a sister. He'd assumed Papyrus would have been jealous.

Apparently, he'd been wrong.

"yeah, bro, i guess... i guess you're right."

Grinning- well, grinning more than usual- Papyrus stood up. "HARRI WILL CALL YOU AS SOON AS SHE CAN. UNTIL THEN, I'VE MADE SPAGHETTI!!!"

At that instant, Sans felt the slight tug that meant he was being summoned. "sorry, bro. i gotta spa- _get_ -ti out of here."

As he closed his eyes, he heard Papyrus wail at the terrible pun.

And then he opened his eyes and Harri was there.

He began to speak before she even opened her mouth. "kiddo, i would love an explanation about what happened today, because you have been-" Harri's eyes filled with tears. Cutting himself off, he pulled her into a hug, shoving his anger away. Harri needed him to be supporting. There was no need to push her.

"The Deputy Headmistress from Hogwarts came," Harri said, voice muffled by Sans' coat. He sat down on the floor, gently tugging her down with him. "And she was... actually really nice. She took me to the wizard part of London, and helped me buy all the school stuff I needed, and told me about my parents."

"were they magic?" Sans asked.

Nodding, Harri curled up close to Sans. "But they were killed. By an evil wizard, and he tried to kill me, but he failed and died? Maybe? No one knows what happened, because I was the only survivor and I was a baby. And now I'm famous for not dying, and his followers probably hate me, and apparently some wizards hate people who aren't magic, and if you're born into a non-magical family they'll despise you, which is awful for so many reasons."

Sans wiped her eyes with the cuff of his sleeve, speechless. He didn't even know where to begin with all of that. Although he knew that if anyone tried to hurt Harri they would be in for _a bad time_.

"And then!" Harri continued. "I came home, and the Dursleys yelled at me, but MacGonagall was there and so I couldn't summon you. She told them that they were awful, and she scared them into promising that they'll drive me to the train station when I have to get to school, but I'm scared that they won't, Sans. They said they would keep me here, and lock me up forever!"

It took every scrap of self control Sans had not to stand up then and there and burn the Dursleys to dust. They'd frightened his little sister. What was that woman thinking, leaving Harri here after they'd said such things? Harri was shaking like a leaf, and he knew, even without a mirror to look into, that his eyes had turned a deep, fathomless black.

But he didn't know what to say to fix it. He didn't know how to make it better, and it ached at him. So he just held her close, and went out on a limb. "well, we already knew your aunt and uncle were total _witches_."

Harri laughed through tears. "They'd be so mad if they knew that someone had called them that," she snickered weakly, wiping her eyes. "They hate magic."

"i _wand_ -er why," Sans said, half serious. Harri giggled again. "magic seems pretty _spell_ -tacular."

By now, Harri was laughing hard enough that she'd stopped crying. "That last one was weak," she said. "I'd say that magic is _hex_ -cellent."

Now Sans chuckled quietly. "you're right, that's much better. you win. what's my _pun_ -ishment."

"The _joke's_ on you, because my puns are always the _jest_."

"How long have you been saving that one?"

"A while. Thought of it while you were telling me about your brother."

Proudly, Sans grinned. His siblings really were the jest.

\---

"so, a magical train?" Sans said, lying on Harri's bed eating a hot dog. Harri had no idea where it had come from, but she had a terrible feeling he'd just had it in his sweater. She’d been crying into that sweater. Seriously, she looked herself over for ketchup stains. "or just a magical train portal?"

"I mean, the train's probably magic. Everything seemed to be magic in Diagon Alley."

"huh. and you have a pet owl now."

"Her name is Hedwig!"

\---

The division between platforms 9 and 10 loomed ominously. Harri stared at them, gulped, and looked down at her trolley, stacked with her case and Hedwig's cage. The bird looked at her and hooted, a sound that clearly meant "get on with it".

Slowly, Harri pushed the trolley forward.

When it touched the wall of the division, she was sucked through, much more quickly than she'd been moving. Stumbling to a stop on the other side, Harri almost fell over. Glancing around, she saw that the scattered other people on the platform weren't looking at her, apparently uninterested.

There really weren't that many people yet, either. The Dursleys had begrudgingly agreed to drive her to King's Cross station, but Dudley had an early morning doctor's appointment ("Have to make sure my Dudleykins is healthy before the start of term!" Aunt Petunia had cooed), and so had dropped her off as early as they could. At least the station had been open, Harri decided.

"You're sure you'll be okay?" said a nearby voice, and Harri- who was pushing her trolley to an out of the way place to wait for the train- stopped to listen.

The voice belonged to a man with violently flame-red hair, who was talking to a pair of children. One of them was a girl, with short black hair and a comfortable dress, and the other a golden blond boy, who was sitting on his case. The party was rounded out by another man, apparently the same age as the other, with hair an unnatural shade of blue, and massive scars in a neat x over his nose. He had the other case open, and was going through its contents, making sure that everything was in its place.

"Remember, we'll be right in Hogsmeade if you need us," the first man continued. He had his hands clasped anxiously. "I've talked to the administration, you have special permission to come visit us whenever. And if anyone bugs you, I'll set them on fire, I promise."

The kids laughed. "I'm pretty sure that that won't be necessary," the boy said.

"Besides," said the second man, closing the case, "your brothers will be at the school as well. I am certain that they would deal with any troublemakers before Lea or I could."

The redhead- Lea- dropped to one knee to be on the same level as the kids. "But we're here for you. So are your brothers. Hey, I'm sure they'll be here soon, and you can ride the train with them and-" He broke off abruptly to wipe his eyes.

"Are you crying?" the other man said, not cruel, but maybe teasing. "I thought you said you'd grown out of that."

"Shut up, Isa," Lea sniffed.

The girl wrapped Lea in hug, and the boy joined it. Isa stood over the three, looking fond. Harri couldn't help but stare at them. Was that what families were like, when they weren't separated by hatred, as Harri was with the Dursleys, or magic and space, like she was with Sans? Just hugging, and caring for each other, joking without cruelty? Able to do so in public? The idea wasn't completely foreign to Harri; she had Sans, and she'd read books and watched movies, but she hadn't ever...

Well, she hadn't ever been able to have what they had.

Feeling like she was intruding on their privacy, Harri turned to Hedwig, and poked her finger through the cage to pet her. The owl made a happy noise, rubbing against Harri's hand.

The sound of a train blowing made Harri perk up, and Hedwig hooted, annoyed to no longer be petted. As the train pulled into the station, Harri saw that it was...

...a completely ordinary train.

Just a typical steam engine pulling cars. Harri was rather disappointed. She and Sans had spent the last few days speculating about what sort of train a magic school would have. Although she had simply thought that it would be a flying train, Sans was convinced that it would be a talking, sentient train. A perfectly normal train was honestly very boring.

Harri shrugged, and started pulling her trolley towards the back of the train, in the hopes that it would be quieter. She put Hedwig's cage inside a car near the back of the train, and then began to try and shove her case inside. It was very heavy though, not to mention unwieldy, and with the car raised above the level of the platform, it was proving practically impossible to get the case inside.

"Need some help?" said a kind voice. Harri turned to see the boy and girl she'd been watching earlier. The girl had been the one to speak, but the boy was already rolling up his sleeves and stepping forward.

"That would be great," Harri admitted, and with the three of them working together, the case was inside in no time.

"I'm Roxas," the boy said, "And this is my sister, Xion."

"Thanks for the help. I'm Harri." She brushed sweaty hair out of her eyes. Xion's eyes widened, but then she smiled brightly.

"We're waiting for the rest of our family," she explained. "Our guardians brought us here crazy early because they're..." she hesitated.

"Super paranoid." Roxas finished the sentence for her. "It's our first year at Hogwarts, and I think they want it to be perfect."

"Oh, it's my first year too!" Harri said, but before she could make further conversation, there was a shout from down the platform.

"Hey! Neophytes, get over here!"

"Vanitas, I swear-"

Looking down the platform, Harri could see two boys, one waving to Roxas and Xion, the other looking mildly scandalized.

"Yeah, that'll be our brothers," Roxas sighed. "Doesn't look like Sora's here though."

Xion gave Harri a smile. "We'll see you at the feast, okay? Right now I think we have to run damage control, or one of them will hex the other." The brother and sister took off down the platform, and Harri couldn't help but smile, as envious of them as she was.

She dragged Hedwig's cage and her case into the nearest compartment, sitting down on an empty seat and watching outside, waiting for the train to take her to Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as I said, no Weasley. And some random characters with terrible names taking their place. I have reasons for that.
> 
> The first is purely selfish; I've had to stick far too close to the book in the last few chapters, and I wanted to throw a wrench into the gears.
> 
> Second, though, I have some very specific plans for how Ron and Hermione will be introduced, and so I needed to not have Harri meet Ron when Harry would.
> 
> Third, as important as family is to the Weasleys, they tend to be less affectionate and more... chaotic. I needed a foil to the first half of the chapter, and Harri's home life in general. Hence, the gang we see. Who I will refer to here on out as the Sea Salt Trio plus Isa. (If there's any interest in it, I have their backstories plotted out, and could write them as side stories to this.)
> 
> As recompense for this chapter, I'm interested to know if there's anything y'all would like to see on this fic. Characters, relationships, crossovers, events? I can't promise to add them, since some characters are already embedded pretty deeply into the plot, but if I can, I'd love to incorporate some ideas from you.
> 
> Much thanks to my darling, beautiful, wonderful beta, to whom I gave very little time to edit this. You are the light of my life, and I am eternally grateful.
> 
> As I mentioned, I'm hoping to get the next chapter out soonish, but as usual, my goal is before two weeks have passed.


	7. The Train Is Still Not Magical

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is being posted later than I'd hoped. Sorry.
> 
> But! Ron is here now! And Hermione and Neville! Lots of familiar faces appear in this chapter!
> 
> In other news, this chapter is where queer issues are finally being introduced! I'd kind of hoped to have this happen earlier, but I no longer have any control over this fic. It does what it wants. I can't stop it.
> 
> Anyways, happy reading!

Ron dragged his trunk behind him, looking in every compartment. They all seemed to be full- or at least occupied by people who sneered at him when he opened the door. It was all his brothers’ fault. If Fred and George had let him stay with them, he'd be fine, but no. They had to go hang out with Lee, who had a tarantula and-

Ron shuddered. Best not to think on the tarantula.

He opened the second-to-last door. Inside was a person of indeterminate gender, about his age, curled up and fast asleep. They had a cape over them, and an owl rested on the seat beside them. An owl who looked directly at Ron and glared.

Well, owls always looked kind of cranky, right? And he was running out of places to sit, so...

He knocked on the door, and the person started awake. They peered at Ron from behind hideous circular glasses. Ron realized that they were probably the same age as him.

"Um," he said eloquently. "Anyone sitting there? The rest of the train is full." He pointed at the unoccupied seat.

"Oh, yes, sure," the person said, glancing around. "Should I move anything? I must have fallen asleep. What time is it?"

Ron sat down, avoiding the owl's gaze. "It's almost eleven. The train'll be leaving-"

A whistle blew, and the train started with a jerk.

"-any second now," he finished.

"I'm rather disappointed, to be honest," the person said. "I really thought it would be magical." They looked at Ron. "I'm Harri, by the way."

"Ron Weasley. He/him pronouns," he added automatically. "Sorry, I don't mean to offend, but what are yours? Pronouns, I mean. I just want to be safe."

"She, I suppose," Harri said, tilting her head. "I don't think I've ever had anyone ask me that before."

Setting his shoulders back, Ron sat up. "My sister is trans. She taught my brothers and I to be more respectful about that sort of thing, and to, y’know, talk about it." He braced himself for the ridicule that was all too common in the wizarding world.

But Harri just nodded. "That's super cool," she said. "I never really thought about any of that." She laughed. "Goes to show how much I know."

"You'll be a first year too, then?" Ron said.

"Oh, yes. Is it that obvious?" Harri looked chargrined. "I really don't know anything, but i've been trying to figure it out."

A voice came from the door."Have you read Hogwarts: A History? Because I have, and I found it very informative."

Ron looked over. Another person their age stood in the doorway, with messy hair and their Hogwarts uniform on. "I'm Hermione," they said, "and I'm a first year at Hogwarts too."

"I'm Ron. Sorry to ask, but what are your pronouns?" He felt a little more confident asking, after Harri had been so kind about it.

Hermione looked a bit surprised at the question, but answered "Her and she," without any judgemental looks. "So are you muggleborn too, then?" she added, apparently directing the question at Harri.

"Hm." Harri thought about it for a moment. "No, I'm not. My mom was though. My dad was Pureblood, I think, not that it really matters. I was raised by muggles, though. Didn't even know..." she paused. "Well, I know about magic, but not about witches and wizards and whatnot."

As the train picked up speed, Harri knelt on the seat to get a better view of the world going by. Hermione looked between her and Ron's seats for a moment. Apparently deciding that she didn't want to sit beside a very cranky owl, she sat next to Ron.

Harri pushed her hair out of her eyes, off her forehead, in a gesture so practiced as to be unthinking.

"Bloody hell, you're Harriette Potter!" Ron said.

"Oh dear," she said. "Please don't make a big deal about it. I've been hiding it fairly well."

"How?" Hermione asked. "I got a few books for background reading, and you're in Modern Magical History and Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts. Oh, and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century. I know all about you."

Leaning forward, Harri fixed Hermione with a look. "What's my favorite colour?"

Hermione hesitated.

"Exactly," Harri said, pleased. "Everyone knows about the first two years of my life, but, astonishingly, I've grown up a bit since then. I don't want everyone to think of me as nothing but a celebrity. I do have a personality."

"But you're famous!" Ron explained, trying to make her see sense. "Your scar is the symbol of the end of the war!"

"Yikes," Harri said.

Uncomprehending, Ron shook his head. Hermione seemed fascinated by the whole affair.

"To completely change the conversation," Harri said. "What is with the wizards hating on muggles? Is that a universal thing? Because I nearly had to punch some boy in Madame Malkin's who said some very unpleasant things."

"You mean you don't know?" Hermione said. "That was how the whole war started!" And with that, Hermione began to explain Blood Politics very well for someone who could only have learned about it within the last few months.

"Yikes," Harri said again, when Hermione took a breath. She stroked her owl through the bars of its cage, looking thoughtful, and maybe a bit angry. "I can't believe my parents died because a bunch of racists decided to follow a guy with a name like Moldevort."

Ron blanched at the sound of the same. "You can't say that!" he hissed.

"'Course I can," Harri said, bold as brass. "Moldyvort killed my parents. I'm going to butcher his name horribly. That's my revenge. I've just decided."

"But no one says his name, Harri," Hermione said. She didn't seem quite as nervous about the whole thing as Ron, though. "It's simply not done!"

Rolling her eyes, Harri sat back in her seat. "If someone is going to use a stupid name like Moldywart, and then expect people to be afraid of it, then they're delusional." She snorted. "Thief of death, indeed."

\---

Harri decided that she liked Ron and Hermione. After they'd gotten over the fact that she was determined to make light of the man who'd murdered her parents, the two of them seemed very nice. Ron was just as fascinated by the muggle world as she was by the wizard world, and Hermione knew enough about both worlds to contribute facts neither of them knew. Harri had introduced them to Hedwig, and Ron had brought out his rat, Scabbers, and tried to cast a spell on it. Which had failed. And then he had started passionately explaining some game called Quidditch.

He was in the middle of an animated explanation of how Qiffles- no, Quaffles- how Quaffles worked, when a young man nervously peeked into their compartment.

"Excuse me," he said, sounding miserable. "Have any of you seen a toad? I've lost mine."

Ron half-heartedly looked around, while Hermione bent down to look under the seat. Harri stood. "I'll help you look for it. I like toads- we had some in our garden. I was always pretty good at finding them."

What Harri didn't say was that she was good at finding animals because she could sense their SOULS. Sans had taught her how recently, only a few months ago. He'd said it was an advanced technique; most monsters could only sense SOULS while in battle.

"but you never know when it can help you to take a good look at someone," he'd added with a wink.

Harri wasn't very good at it yet, but she could sense the presence of SOULS. As she and the toad boy, Neville, travelled through the train car, asking if anyone had seen a toad, she counted the number of people in each compartment, and compared it to the number of SOULS. Other than some pets, it had all lined up, and Neville seemed to be growing despondent.

"Cheer up!" she said gently, knocking on the door of the next compartment. "I'm sure we’ll find him." She slid the door open to reveal an unwelcome face. It was the rude boy from Madam Malkin's, and he scowled at her, clearly recognizing her just as quickly.

She set her shoulders back and started counting SOULS. "We're looking for a toad. Have any of you seen one?"

The other boys in the compartment seemed to defer to Malfoy, as he spoke up. "No, and thank goodness for that. If my father had forced me to come to Hogwarts with a toad, I would have lost it as soon as possible."

"Well that's lovely for you," Harri said, looking around to see if any of them had any pets. "Fortunately, none of us are possessed with your obviously impeccable sense of fashion, and we'd really like to find that toad. Could you look around for it perhaps?"

"What for?" the boy said.

Harri rolled her eyes, and stepped forward. "Move, please," she said.

The boy opened his mouth to reply, and Harri rolled her eyes. She dropped to one knee and shoved the boy's legs out of the way, reaching under the seat. Triumphantly, she pulled out the toad.

"Trevor!" Neville cried joyfully, and Harri grinned. She stood and turned to the boys and, feeling rather malicious, pushed her hair off her forehead in a casual movement.

They all gaped, and she smirked. "Thanks for your help," she said, voice dripping with false sweetness. She flounced out, taking Neville's arm. He seemed too happy to have his toad back to have noticed her scar. "Want to come sit with us?" she said. "There's still room."

"Could I really?" he said, then he blushed. "I don't really know anyone yet."

"Me neither," Harri said, "so I guess that works out well!"

Back at their compartment, Harri and Neville almost bumped into the snack cart. "Anything from the cart, dears?" the woman pushing it said, smiling at them kindly.

"Oh, hello," Hermione said to them, as they stepped inside. "Any luck?"

Neville held up his toad like a trophy.

Meanwhile, Ron was scrounging through his bag. "Nothing for me," he said to the witch with the snacks morosely, holding up a lumpy sandwich.

Harri looked at her small group of new friends, and grinned. She'd never had money to buy sweets before, and even if she had, they would surely have been eaten by Dudley. But now?

Pulling out her bag of coins, she went into the corridor to buy as much as she could carry. She had never seen any of the treats on the trolley in her life: Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, Chocolate Frogs, Cauldron Cakes, and any number of other magical foods.

Being an eleven year old with cash to burn for the first time in her life, she bought as much of it as the witch would let her.

She walked back into the compartment and dropped her armful of candy on to the seats. "I don't know what any of this is, but I'm going to find out."

"You can't eat all of that at once," Hermione said, "you'll get cavities."

"And a stomachache," Harri agreed. "No, this is for all of us."

Ron choked on his sandwich. "You can't-"

"Well, I'm not going to give it back," Harri said. "My best friend always taught me that the best way to make friends was to give them food. I'm sure his brother would say that I should make you spaghetti, but I don't have a stove, so... will this do?"

Shrugging, Hermione picked up a Chocolate Frog. "This is terribly unhealthy," she informed Harri.

"Oh, come on," Ron said, gingerly choosing a Pumpkin Pasty. "How often do you get to eat like this?"

As they began to bicker, and Neville stared suspiciously at a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, Harri leaned back and scratched Hedwig's feathers. It seemed like she was well on her way to making friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harri can see SOULS! This is definitely not going to be significant later! No need to remember that detail! Also, she can apparently speak enough French to translate Voldemort's name (thank you, insignificantramblings, for fixing all my egregious errors there).
> 
> Also, I'm taking great delight in tormenting Malfoy. I love him now, but this is revenge for my younger self, who had much less positive feelings for him. Poor dude. It can only get better from here (I lie).
> 
> Transgender Ginny! I read a post somewhere a while back that sparked the idea for this. I'd link it here, but I've managed to lose it. We haven't met her yet, but we will. Possibly not for a while yet, but it'll happen. I have plans. My beta mentioned that Ron is technically outing Ginny here (a thousand thanks for that, by the way), and I've decided that she's given her brothers permission to talk about it. Open up the dialogue, y'know? But really, it's there because you should know she's trans. Representation is important, even in fanfiction.
> 
> To this day, the snack trolley is my favorite thing in Philosopher's Stone.


	8. At Least the Hat is Magic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is late because I had a midterm. I'm much too tired to write notes.
> 
> Happy reading!

They were playing poker when they pulled into the station, betting with Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans (which really added another level to the gambling). Hermione had forced them all to take a break to put their robes on when it had begun to grow dark outside, but despite that, they still scrambled to collect themselves Harri shoving her deck of cards loose into her trunk. Neville (who had turned out to be really very good at poker) put a handful of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans into his mouth and turned purple.

Laughing, they stumbled off the train into the cold night air, tripping over each other and themselves. The platform was tiny, and the first-years clustered together, left behind by the other students. A lantern shone out of the dark suddenly, lighting a giant man. He was more than twice as tall as Harri, and larger than any man she'd ever met.

"Firs' years!" he boomed. "Firs' years, this way!"

Seeing him clearly in the light of the platform, Harri remembered MacGonagall's description of Hagrid, and realised this must be that man. She had sent him a thank you letter, and had received as response an invitation to tea. She felt a little less nervous, knowing that this was the kind man with atrocious handwriting who had given her an owl.

She and her new friends followed him down a small path down a cliff. They rounded a corner and saw Hogwarts for the first time. A collective gasp rose above the quiet chatter as they saw the imposing castle standing proudly above a lake dark as ink. There was a veritable fleet of small boats at the shoreline and Hagrid herded the first-years into them. When everyone was comfortably settled, the boats began to glide across the lake.

"Damn, that's cool," Harri said.

"Language!" Hermione sounded scandalized, and Harri laughed.

"So, houses," she said, leaning forward conspiratorially. "How does that work? I mean, how do they pick which you're in? Is it by name? Birth date? Arbitrary personality traits?"

"I don't actually know how they sort you," Ron said. He looked worried. "Fred and George said it hurts a lot, but I think they were kidding."

Neville looked deeply concerned. The boat bumped against the shore, and as they got out, Harri clapped him on the back. "On the bright side, if it does hurt, we can absolutely get the school in more trouble than they can manage. That would be some fun vengeance."

"Could you get Hogwarts in trouble?" Hermione mused. "It's a very well established school."

They came up to a set of impressive double doors. "Haven't you heard?" Harri said, looking up at the building. "I'm The Girl Who Lived."

The sound rolled across the lake when Hagrid knocked on the doors, but they opened absolutely silently to reveal Professor MacGonagall. She cast a discerning look across them all.

"Thank you, Hagrid, I'll take them from here." The doors opened wide enough to let in the crowd of students easily, and closed just as softly behind them. She began to explain the houses, and the points system of the school, but said nothing about how they would be sorted. She led them into an empty room just off the main hallway. "The Sorting Ceremony will begin shortly. I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly." She fixed a look at Harri before leaving the small chamber, which seemed rather unfair. Harri hadn't done anything yet.

"Well, well, well." Harri turned. It was that blonde boy. Again. She could feel a headache coming on as she leaned back, crossing her arms. "So you're Harriette Potter."

Whispers sprung up all through the group. Harri ignored them. "It really took you a while to figure that out. Did you never consider asking for my name?" The boys flanking Malfoy looked like Dudley, and Harri felt fear well up in her chest. They scowled at her, and she tried to breathe deeply.

The boy noticed here eyeing them. "This is Crabbe and Goyle." He didn't bother to tell her which was which. "And I'm Draco Malfoy."

"Well met, Draco Malfoy," Harri replied. "My name is Harri Potter, and I'll thank you to remember it."

He looked almost impressed, but narrowed his eyes again when he saw Ron, Hermione and Neville, who had stepped up beside her. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are better than others. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you with that." He offered her a hand.

Harri felt as though she stood on a precipice, hanging between choices. She didn't like Draco Malfoy, but she didn't want him to hate her. She didn't need a nemesis. This guy really didn't seem to be able to take a hint. Thinking hard, she wondered what Sans would do.

And she laughed out loud. Sans would have a whoopie cushion in his palm, that's what he'd do. She shook her head. "I really wouldn't rather do this here," she said, shaking her head, "but nothing I've said has worked yet. You're a bully, Malfoy. I grew up with bullies, and I don't need to have one dictating my life."

Malfoy turned red, looking furious. He opened his mouth to speak, and Harri cut him off again.

"A word of advice. No one likes a bully." She turned serious. "They might fear you, but when push comes to shove, a bully has no friends. Is that really what you want?" She turned away from him just as MacGonagall returned.

The professor looking extremely skeptical. "The Sorting Ceremony is about to start," she said. "Form a line and follow me, please."

They walked into the hallway, and then further, into the Great Hall.

Despite the butterflies that had suddenly appeared in her stomach, whether due to the thought of being sorted or her latest confrontation with Draco Malfoy, Harri was awed at the sight of the Hall. Candles floated overhead, held by some unseen force, but no wax fell onto the tables below. There were four of these, filled with people- students- and set with golden tableware. At the top of the hall was a fifth table, where the teachers sat. And above? Above the candles was no ceiling, but the sky, glittering with stars.

Hermione whispered behind her. "It's not the real sky; it's bewitched. I read about it in _Hogwarts: A History_."

Laughing a little, Harri grinned. "That's incredible."

Professor MacGonagall placed a stool on a dias in front of the first years and sat a hat on top of it. The hat was... well. It was a rather horrible little thing, desperately in need of washing and mending. But everyone in the hall was staring at the hat in silence, so it had to have some importance.

And just as Harri began to wonder if they'd all gone mad, a tear near the brim of the hat opened like a mouth, and it began to sing.

At which point Harri wondered if _she'd_ gone mad.

The hat explained in song form the personality traits each house sought. Because that was, apparently, how they sorted kids.

At the end of the song, as applause rose, Ron whispered furiously, "We just have to try on a hat? Fred was going on about wrestling a troll!"

"I'll help you fight him," Harri offered, but she was nervous. As students began to step up to the stool, and the hat shouted out the house they were now a part of, she remembered being picked for teams at her last school. Or rather, not being picked for teams- she was always chosen last, as not to offend Dudley. What if the hat didn't like her? What if she wasn't suited for any of the houses?

Hermione was sorted into Gryffindor, and her eyes gleamed with joy.

What if the hat was angry that she'd already learned magic from Sans? What if they threw her out?

The twins who had helped her with her suitcase- Roxas and Xion Hart- were sorted into Gryffinor and Hufflepuff respectively.

Monster magic was different than wizard magic. What if she was no good at wizard magic.

When Neville was sorted into Gryffindor, he was so happy that he forgot to take off the hat.

She decided then that if they did throw her out, she wasn't going back to the Dursley's. Instead, she'd make Sans tell her how to get into the Underground, and she'd spend the rest of her life pretending to be a monster. Yeah, that was a good plan. Yup.

"Potter, Harriette!" Once more, the shocked conversation erupted over the hall. Harri now felt much worse about the whole thing. She was very relieved when the hat covered her eyes.

"My goodness!" said a voice in her ear. "This is quite unusual. My, my... but this is really quite difficult. So much here, talent and mind and courage, and oh, such a desire to prove yourself..." The hat trailed off.

Harri bit her lip. "You need to sort me somewhere," she murmured, "so please sort me sooner rather than later."

The hat laughed. "Well, that settles it. You really are like your brothers. GRYFFINDOR!" The shout was clear enough that it could be heard across the hall, and the hat was lifted off her head before she could ask it what on Earth it meant.

Had the Sorting Hat met Sans and Papyrus?

\---

Everyone had gone to sleep when Harri crept downstairs into the common room. The fire's embers still glowed, and Harri warmed her cold feet. Then she summoned Sans.

The skeleton's glow lit the room bright again, and Harri threw herself at him, hugging him tightly.

"everything okay?" he asked, sounding equal parts stunned and worried. "need me to fight anyone? everyone?"

Harri felt tears filling her eyes, and wiped them away, embarrassed. "I'm fine- I'm just happy and relieved and nervous all at once and I needed my big brother."

Sans made a noise in the back of his throat. It almost sounded like he was holding back tears when he spoke. "glad you called. i was worrying."

"I'm in Gryffindor," Harri said. "That means I'm supposed to be brave."

Sans pulled the most comfortable couch in front of the fire with blue magic, and pulled them onto it. "sounds like you."

"I don't feel brave," Harri admitted. "I feel overwhelmed. And confused. And kind of scared." She buried her face in Sans' jacket. "I'd say that I felt homesick, except I feel more at home here than I ever did with the Dursley's." Desperately trying not to cry, she squeezed Sans' jacket. "I just don't know what to do. Everyone looks at me, and I feel like they expect things from me. But I don't know anything. I don't know about potions, or the history of all this stuff, or anything about the magical world!"

Bony fingers carded through her hair. "you know about magic." Sans said. "maybe not the magic they use, but you're still going to be better at all this stuff than they are. no human has ever been able to master monster magic the way you have. it's im-potion-t that you remember that."

Sniffing a little through tears, Harri laughed. "That was pretty terrible, Sans."

"yeah," Sans said, "i guess you could say it was historically bad?" He grinned.

"Oh, wow. That was much worse." She sat up. "Thanks."

"anything," Sans said.

For a while, they sat and watched the embers of the fire flicker and glow.

"Hey, Sans?" Harri finally said.

"s'up?"

"Is there a difference between magical creatures and monsters?"

Sitting up, Sans looked at her. "what do you mean?"

"I met a goblin at the bank," she explained. "And he said that he and the other goblins could tell that I'd been trained by someone who hasn't human, but they said "magical creature" not monster. I didn't tell them about you, but it got me thinking. And then!" she continued, remembering, "The Sorting Hat told me that I was just like my chosen family! How on Earth could he have known about you!"

Sans looked stunned. "okay, that second one is weird. but the first one- i was too young to remember any of this, so this is all secondhand. but back when the humans and the monsters fought, there was a division between monsters. lots of monsters didn't want a fight. so they signed treaties with the humans, tried to be useful, or at least harmless. sometimes species split up. other times..." Sans looked sad. "whole groups of monsters were killed. those of us who couldn't fathom bowing to them split off. we went underground. and we've been there ever since.

Wide-eyed, Harri looked back at the fireplace. "So... you all used to be one group?"

A dry rattle was Sans' response. "no way. it was the humans who clumped us all together like that. we had to band together. we used to be skeletons, ghosts, centaurs... there were so many types, and most of us in the Underground don't even remember what we were back then. my-" He stopped. "i try to remember. for old times' sake."

"Wait a minute." Doing some math, Harri sat back. "This was all centuries ago, wasn't it?"

"yeah."

"But- I thought- Sans, how old are you?"

The skeleton shrugged. "old. skeletons age weird. we grow up like humans, and then we kind of just... stop."

"But Papyrus was still a kid when we met!"

Sans grinned. "yeah, my bro is a lot younger than me. if it makes you feel better, i spent a lot of time in and out of magical suspension after the war. my- i got caught in a fight, apparently, and it really screwed up my magic." His smile faded. "that was the fight where most of the skeletons died."

"Well. Shit." Her head fekk against the back of the couch. "That's why your HP is so low!"

"you got it."

"So I guess that the Sorting Hat really could have met you!" Harri said. Her head ached with realization.

"sure, or maybe another skeleton. from what i've heard, we were a close knit group."

Silence fell over the two of them. Harri's head swam with the thought that, at one point, there had been so many distinct groups of monsters, all different and unique, and that... most of them had been killed. No, exterminated. It was horrifying to consider. The humans had attacked children, for god's sake. Harri could read between the lines. If skeletons were all as fiercely protective of their families as Sans was, then there never would have been children on the battlefield.

Humans had attacked Sans' home. They'd tried to kill a child. And if they'd done it once, then they'd probably done it many times.

"hey, kiddo," Sans said, softly.

Drawn out of her reverie, Harri looked up.

"you're the bravest person i know. including my bro. never forget that, okay?"

Harri nodded, and burst into tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have plans for which houses all the Kingdom Hearts characters would be sorted in. Also, I'm very proud that I remembered to toss in some plot points in this chapter.
> 
> I wonder who the Sorting Hat met...


	9. An Old Curmudgeon and a New Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M NOT DEAD
> 
> With the world in disarray and university being... much harder than expected, I've had to put this on hold for a while, but I'm hoping to get back to a regular update schedule. So this one's a little shorter than usual, because I just want get it out there.
> 
> Anyway, Snape's here now, and my goodness he's hard to write.
> 
> Happy reading!

It had been almost one week since the beginning of classes, and Harri could almost make it to every class without getting lost. Almost. She had never more wished that she could teleport like Sans than when trying to navigate Hogwarts, with its dozens of moving staircases and hundreds of hallways. Harri had resorted to asking anyone she could for directions. If you found a portrait that wasn't completely mad, they were usually quite happy to help the students. The ghosts were similar: Nearly-Headless Nick was very helpful, willing to walk Harri and her friends to their classes if need be, but some of the other ghosts refused to talk to them. She'd even tried asking Filch for help. Although he acted cranky and bitter, and was quite happy to punish any student who he found breaking a rule, Harri had discovered that as long as she was polite, he would at least point her in the right direction.

The classes were just as baffling as the castle, and Harri had stared at her Astronomy homework for a full hour one night before deciding that she would need to ask a teacher (or Hermione) for help with it. But today was the day she started potions, and if Harri was being honest with herself, she was more nervous about that than anything else. Just reading through her potions textbook during breakfast was giving her a headache.

"Hermione, what on earth does this mean?" Harri said, pointing at a direction in the book.

Hermione looked over, while Ron (eating a bowl of porridge that seemed to be composed of mainly sugar) shook his head. "Class hasn't started yet, mate. He'll explain all this then!"

Harri and Hermione ignored him. "Stir counter-clockwise?" Hermione asked. "It's rather self-explanatory, isn't it?"

"You're telling me that I actually have to stir in a specific direction?" Harri wailed. "What is the logic of this? How- why- I'm going to fail this class, aren't I." Neville patted her hand in sympathy.

Fortuitously, the post arrived at that moment, the flood of owls providing a much-needed distraction. Hegwig swooped in proudly, carrying an envelope in her beak. She landed on Harri's offered arm, dropped the letter, and accepted a piece of toast. As Hedwig crunched happily on her snack, Harri opened the letter.

"Oh, it's Hagrid!" Harri said. "He responded to my letter!" She looked around the table. "I'm going to go visit him this afternoon. Would you like to come?"

"Hagrid... that's the groundskeeper, right?" Hermione said.

Harri nodded. "He knew my parents," she said, glancing down at the letter. "And he hasn't seen me since I was a baby." She wished Sans could meet Hagrid. Her big brother would be able to tell him more about Harri's childhood than she could.

"We'll definitely come," Ron said. "Maybe he'll be able to tell us embarrassing stories about you!"

Neville ducked his head. "Do you think he might have known my parents?" Neville asked softly. Harri remembered then that Neville lived with his grandmother- she hadn't asked why.

With a bright smile, she patted him on the back. "You won't know unless you ask, right?"

\---

Potions class was held in the dungeon, and that alone was a more apt metaphor for it than any Harri could have thought of. Sans was going to rip it to shreds when she told him.

That and the promise of tea with Hagrid were the only things that were going to get her through this class, because Professor Snape was the most odious man ever to be given a teaching license. He certainly didn't deserve that license.

...Did wizards have teaching licenses?

Snape's class certainly suggested that anyone could become a teacher, regardless of qualifications. The first sign of trouble came during attendance. Snape paused at Harri's name, but not in the way Professor Flitwick had (he'd fallen off of his chair in excitement). Snape looked at Harri coldly, like she was something he'd found on the bottom of his shoe.

He looked at her like the Dursley's once had.

"Ah, yes," he said. "Harriette Potter. Our new... _celebrity_.

"Here," Harri said, as Malfoy's two cronies snickered on the other side of the room. Snape met her eyes. She met his. She would not flinch, she decided. If she could survive a childhood with the Dursleys, then she could handle one more jerk. No matter how much he frightened her.

As class began, Snape began to drone on about how powerful potions were, and all the things they could do. To Harri, it sounded like posturing. Potions took time to brew, which meant they took planning. And plans were all well and good, but what about when you needed to react to something? Was one supposed to keep a bandolier of potions on hand at all times?

On second thought, that sounded awesome. Maybe potions wasn't all bad.

"Miss Potter," Snape said coolly. Harri sat up straight. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

That sounded familiar, although Harri was sure it hadn't been one of the potions that the textbook recommended for first year students. She glanced over at Hermione, sitting beside Neville, whose hand had shot up. "That's, uh, referenced in the introduction of the textbook, isn't it? It's a... sleeping potion?"

"The Draught of Living Death," Snape said. "No mere sleeping potion, it is so powerful that it has been banned in several countries." He sneered. "Where would you look if I told you to find a bezoar?"

Even though Hermione leaned forward eagerly, Snape continued to glare down at Harri. "It's a standard ingredient in most higher-level potions kits," Harri said. She could remember this only because she and Sans had laughed about it together the day after she had gotten her books. "So I think I'd look there before I looked in the stomach of a goat. The goat might not have eaten a stone, after all, and then I would have killed the goat for nothing."

Ron disguised a laugh as a cough.

"What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

And that had come up while Harri had been researching magical creatures. "They're the same. Please, could you ask Hermione some questions now? She really is much smarter than me."

Snape looked ready to spit fire. "A point from Gryffindor for your cheek, Potter. And why isn't anyone writing this down?"

Harri rested her forehead in her hands, feeling angry and tired. Ron pressed his arm against hers, and she could feel his tense anger. The rest of the class passed in a blur, without major incident. There was the quiet hum of Hermione on one side, explaining the direction to Neville, as Ron and Harri stumbled through the steps to make a boils cure together.

Finally, the class ended, with Snape having nothing but scathing criticism for the Gryffindor's potions and praise galore for the Slytherins. As students began to file out, Harri steeled herself and went up to Professor Snape.

"Sir?" she asked softly.

He stared at her.

"I'd like to do as well as the Slytherins did today," she began politely (flattery will get you everywhere), "but I grew up with Muggles, so I think I'm behind. Do you know any books in the library I could read to catch up?"

Snape glowered at her. "You're too behind to catch up that easily. You'll just have to work hard in class, and hope that you manage to do well enough."

"And is there anyone I can get a second opinion on that from?" Harri said. Ron, Neville, and Hermione, who had been slowly packing their things up, froze.

"What?" Snape seethed.

"Well, sir, it's the first day of class. If you aren't making accommodation for muggleborn students- who make up nearly a third of the school- then someone else must be, and I'd like to speak to them." Harri stood still and calm. She couldn't have done anything to anger this professor as much as he seemed to hate her.

The man sputtered, hissed "Ten points from Gryffindor," and swept out of the room.

"Hm," Harri said, as Ron clapped her on the back.

\---

With a day as bad as Harri had been through, it was only natural that she was a little nervous when she knocked on the door to Hagrid's hut. She could hear a dog barking, and then the door swung open to reveal Hagrid, who was just as large as the students remembered.

"Why, Harri!" Hagrid said. "You look just like your mother! You got your father's hair, though. He could never get a brush through it either."

Harri grinned, blushing. "These are my friends," she said, gesturing to them. "Ron, Neville, and Hermione."

"Well, you must be a Weasley!" he said to Ron. "Youngest of the group? That'll be hard. And... you wouldn't happen to be Neville Longbottom?"

Neville nodded shyly.

"I knew your parents too," Hagrid said gently. "Good folks, they were. Miss Hermione, was your name?"

Hermione blushed. "I'm muggleborn."

"Ah, of course," Hagrid said with a nod. "So was Lily- Harri's mum. Best witch I've ever met. Muggleborns have a knack for seeing things those of us who grew up with magic never do!" He stepped back from the door. "But here I am leaving you out in the cold! Come in, all of you."

Hagrid's hut was cozy and welcoming, with an open fire and a massive dog. He offered them all rock cakes, which were nearly inedible, and they began to tell him about their classes. He laughed at Ron's impersonation of Professor Binns (who had, apparently, always been like that) and applauded when they told him that Hermione had been the first in their class to make any progress into transfiguring a match into a needle. He listened closely as Neville talked about the plants they were going to be raising in Herbology.

When Harri told him about Professor Snape's horrible attitude, he sighed, avoiding her eyes. "He wanted to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Dumbledore wouldn't let him. Since then, he's taken out his frustration on every student in his class- except Slytherins, of course. His old house. Don't take him too personally, alright? He's a git."

Harri laughed out loud for the first time since class. "Are we sure he doesn't hate me personally? He seemed determined to make a fool of me."

"Probably just jealous of your fame," Ron offered. They all laughed, and Hagrid asked after one of Ron's brothers, who apparently worked with dragons.

But Harri couldn't stop thinking of Snape. He hated everyone, sure, but he hated her... differently, somehow. What was it about her that made him so angry? Why on earth did he have such a grudge against her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not a fan of Snape, and I find writing him difficult, so Hagrid is aggressively nice in this fic. Because I said so.
> 
> The way Snape views Harri will definitely be affected by the whole "she's a girl in this fic" thing, but that's not going to start changing things radically just yet.
> 
> I've had really bad teachers- not as bad as Snape, thank heavens- and I get really angry about this sort of situation. A teacher who isn't good at teaching can be just as damaging to as student's attitudes about school as a teacher who is a bad person. If you are having or have had troubles with any sort of bad teacher, from Snape to Binns, consider reaching out to someone for mental health support. Although it can be hard to trust a school counselor in a situation like this, there are a number of free, safe, anonymous counseling services online. Researching what's available in your area can be worthwhile- I've used things like Kids Help Phone in the past, and just talking about a problem might really help. I hope none of you need this advice, but if you do, please reach out to a professional.
> 
> Stay safe out there, folks. Things are weird in the wide world, but in all likelihood, this too shall pass.


	10. Oh That's Definitely A Bad Sign

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LIIIIIIIVE!
> 
> I don't think I need to tell you all that we live in strange times, and it's been difficult keeping to a schedule. Add university being absolutely insane, and, well... I pretty much lost my muse. It hasn't totally come back yet, so I've decided to give you a shorter chapter just to reassure you all that I have not abandoned this fic.
> 
> As always, a thousand thanks to my darling beta, without whom this would still be a lonely document languishing on my computer.
> 
> Happy reading!

Quirrel's class should have been interesting. Unfortunately, Quirrel was utterly incompetent. He was terrified of everything he was supposed to be teaching about, and spent most of his classes nervously checking his warding spells and shielding talismans while the students read through their textbooks. Harri was fairly sure that a solid sixty percent of his protective tools were just superstitious garbage, and she'd spent the last several minutes of this particular class trying to see whether any of them had any actual magic in them.

Years ago, Sans had taught Harri how to see SOULS. Although it was primarily used for battling (and finding lost toads), Harri had found that some magical artifacts had a SOUL-like aura that she could see if she focused. Wands, for example, held a trace of the power of whatever creature their core was from. As she stared at a bunch of garlic that might actually have been plastic, Ron elbowed her in the side.

She straightened abruptly, just as Professor Quirrel walked in front of her. "W-what can you tell me about this chapter, Miss P-potter?"

"Uh-- trolls," Harri began, but she could barely focus on what she was saying. Ron had surprised her, and so when she'd looked at Quirrel she was still SOUL-seeing. There were her classmates SOULS, glowing faintly in their own variety of colours, Ron's purple SOUL, but Quirrel-

Quirrel had two SOULS.

That was... probably not good. Fortunately, Harri had memorized most of the textbook, so despite her shock, she was able to rattle off a decent summary of the assigned chapter. Quirrel started twitching right around her description of the murderous instincts of trolls and fled, leaving her to shake the magic out of her eyes. She tried to get her thoughts back in order.

"There's two of you," Ron said.

Now even more confused, Harri spun to face him.

"Hermione and you. You're both-" he shuddered melodramatically- "teacher's pets."

Harri scoffed, relived. "I only read the textbook because I thought that I'd be a lot further behind than I am. At least I can just coast for a while now." Two SOULS- that was impossible. Sans had told her that everyone had their own unique SOUL, just one. It was the center of a person’s magic, the core of their life force. To have two would be two people.

"Hopeless," Hermione sighed. She closed her textbook with a snap, and pulled a different book out of her bag- Quidditch Through the Ages. Flying was the one class Hermione wasn't confident about, and she had taken to sharing tips from the book since she had gotten it out of the library. With his unfortunate propensity for accidents, Neville was just as nervous. Although Harri wondered if it might be a learned fear, as Neville had told them that his grandmother hadn't allowed him to ride a broom.

As Ron and Hermione began to bicker about the best way to hold a broomstick, Harri shared a forced smile with Neville, allowing herself to be distracted. She would tell Sans about Quirrel later, but for now, she had to make it through the rest of the day without further incident.

\---

Harri glared at Malfoy.

Malfoy glared at Harri.

This was definitely not how flying lessons were meant to go.

"Just give me the remembrall, Draco," Harri sighed.

"Come and get it," he said with a smirk.

Gesturing at the open air around them, Harri floated a little closer on her broom. "Is this really the place you want to settle this? Fifty feet above the ground? Really, Draco? Just give me Neville's remembrall."

Malfoy flew past her, and she spun on her broom to chase him, muttering swears Sans didn't want her to know. What was the point of this? Malfoy’s posturing was really getting tiresome.

"Shall I leave it up a tree for Longbottom to find?" he said. “Or perhaps I’ll just smash it, hmm?”

Pushing windblown hair out of her eyes, Harri sighed. "Draco... listen, can we call a truce?"

He stopped midair, apparently stunned. "What?"

She flew closer. "You don't need to be a bitch for people to respect you. In fact, that's probably the worst way to convince people to respect you. I'm fairly certain that the rest of my friends would happily push you off your broom. And I will admit that I considered that option."

Malfoy backed up, looking down at his goons on the ground.

"But,” Harri added, “I was raised to solve problems without violence." Although the Dursleys certainly had nothing to do with that. "So how about this: you don't mess with my friends. I'll try and stop them from talking shit about you. And we'll see how that goes."

Draco narrowed his eyes at her. "I'll think about it." 

“I suppose that’s all I can ask of you.”

Draco tossed the remembrall in her general direction and flew down to land.

She dove to catch the troublesome little thing. It fell into her hand as she landed, and she dismounted the broom, deliberately ignoring Draco. His pettiness nearly cost her friend his gift from his grandmother.

Cackling, Ron threw an arm around her shoulders, already telling her how cool the standoff between her and Malfoy had been, and she handed a scolding Hermione the remembrall. Sparing Draco a glance, she saw that he was looking at her pensively.

"HARRIETTE POTTER!" The shout came from the other end of the lawn, and Harri nearly leapt out of her skin.

It was MacGonagall. It was a very angry MacGonagall, and somehow, that was much more terrifying than flying a broomstick.

\---

"-so now I'm the seeker for Gryffindor!"

Sans chewed his hotdog, sitting inside the bathtub. Despite her years of knowing him, Harri still had no clue how he ate. "right, and what does that mean?"

"No clue. But I am the youngest in a hundred years." Harri shrugged, leaning on the edge of the bathtub. The bathroom for her room was empty at this time of night, and thus was the safest place to meet Sans. "Possibly because of that rule about first years not being allowed on the team."

His perpetual grin widening, Sans ruffled Harri's hair. "nice job, kiddo. they sound like real broom-sticklers for rules. glad you’re driving them crazy.”

As she lay back on the floor, Harri frowned.

"something bothering you?"

"...Yeah. I don't... Sans, I'm good at SOUL-seeing, right?" Harri said.

"just fine. you've had lots of practice with it by now." Sans slid down the side of the tub so he was laying down inside. They stared at the ceiling together. “i taught you how when you were still a baby-bones, didn’t i? it’s a nice basic skill for a kid to learn. helps you get control of your magic, and there’s no easy way to screw it up.”

“So, then is it possible for someone to have two SOULS?"

There was a long moment of silence. Then the skittering of bone on porcelain as Sans scrambled out of the tub. "what."

"Okay, so I was bored in class and I was SOUL-seeing the magical artifacts in one of my professor’s classroom and he surprised me so I looked over at him and he had two SOULS. I wasn't trying to spy on him, I know you said that was rude, I just-"

"Hey, slow down, kiddo." Sans took one of her hands in his, and his eyes flashed in a way that meant he was CHECKING her magical stats. Apparently he didn't see anything out of the ordinary, because he frowned in confusion. "you sure you weren't just seeing someone else's SOUL?"

"No, because that was the other weird thing," Harri continued. "His second SOUL wasn't in the right place." She lay a hand on her chest, almost protectively, as though her SOUL might jump out at any moment. "It was in his head. And he always wears a turban, and everyone thinks it's filled with garlic because it smells awful, but then I started wondering if he's keeping something in there." Harri took a deep breath. “His SOUL is cyan, but the second one is red. And it looks… I dunno. It doesn’t look right. It looks sick, Sans.”

"do you think he's possessed?" Sans had never seen a case of possession, but in his f- in the research files he'd studied over the years, he'd read about the possibility. A SOUL stealing the body of another and controlling it, A terrifying thought, especially since a human with enough DETERMINATION would be able to possess anyone they chose. That particular SOUL trait was well suited to the skill.

"Like in a horror movie?" Harri said. "Wait, is that really a thing?"

"theoretically," Sans said wearily, "no monster would ever try it, so it's never been attempted in the underground. and there's no way for me to get data on what humans are up to."

Harri and Sans shared a long look. This was bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmm... Quirrel has two SOULS... wonder why....
> 
> I'm definitely taking creative liberties here in regards to Undertale canon. I don't remember if monsters or humans can actually see SOULS outside of combat, but I've decided that for this fic, they can. They can't CHECK, but they can at least see SOUL colour. Because I say so, and I'm the author.
> 
> A quick question before I send you on your way: would anyone be interested in short stories set in this universe that elaborate on non-plot-relevant past events and side characters? Because if so, I've contemplating making this into a series and writing those things that I just said. Give me some feedback, and if you have any short stories you'd want to see, throw the ideas my way. No promises, but I need to get back into the habit of writing and any inspiration is welcome.
> 
> I really hope that I can give you the next chapter within two weeks, but as I mentioned, my general well being has definitely taken a hit from the current environment (also it's spring, and I'm horribly allergic to everything).


	11. You Could Call That a Pet Peeve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I must first apologize for the lateness of this chapter. The muses took a vacation. However, it is here now, and I think I have wrangled the muses into something approaching complacency.
> 
> This chapter is short, but I'm pleased with how it turned out.
> 
> Happy reading!

With blue magic, Sans carefully levitated Harri into bed. She had fallen asleep while he'd been telling a story about his brother's latest spaghetti shenanigans. But he was still here. Apparently, if she didn't send him away, Sans could hang around even if Harri was unconscious. That wasn't something they had ever tested before, but it was good to know.

Still, the fact remained that Sans was here, and Harri was asleep, so Sans had nothing to do. Now, he could just take a nap- and in fact, that sounded pretty fun- but he didn't really want to deal with all the questions if the other people in Harri's dorm woke up to find him there. Harri seemed to want to keep him a secret, and Sans respected that. So instead of curling up for a nice, long nap, he teleported into the common room (unknowingly avoiding the booby-trapped stairs), and left the dormitories to go exploring.

Sans hadn't had a chance to see any of Hogwarts yet, what with Harri only summoning him when she felt it was safe. The moving stairs were cool (and they somewhat made up for the disappointing train). They were far less inconvenient when you could teleport to your destination. Sans appreciated the trick steps too, although he wondered if they weren't a little dangerous. Maybe there were spells in place to keep students from breaking their limbs when they stumbled?

The portraits were also fascinating. At first, Sans had wondered why there were so many paintings of people sleeping, but when he came across a group of portraits playing a late night poker game, he realized they must be enchanted. He'd never seen anything like that in the Underground. One portrait mistook him for a ghost, which baffled him. He didn't look anything like a ghost, other than, perhaps, the faint glow.

As Sans began to wonder if the ghosts in the wizarding world were different than the ghosts he knew, he became aware of something hovering above him. As he looked up, a bucket of water floating in the air over his head tipped over. Almost without thinking, he caught it, his blue magic lighting up the hallway.

A being became visible in the hallway above him: a floating, apparently human creature that looked rather displeased that Sans had not been soaked. "Not a student! Not a ghost! Should call a professor, perhaps?"

"are you a ghost?" Sans asked, curious. He wasn't too worried about the creature's threats. He could always teleport back to Harri's side if need be.

"A ghost? Hardly!" The creature looked offended. "Peeves, is I. A poltergeist, I am."

"cool," Sans said. Poltergeists were trickster spirits, if he recalled Harri's textbook correctly. He could work with that. "i'm sans the skeleton."

"A skeleton, hm?" Peeves said, floating upside-down.

"y'know," Sans said, "it's polite to shake hands after you meet someone." He put a hand out. Peeves grasped it, and Sans was sure he was planning something, but then the tell-tale sound of a whoopie cushion echoed through the halls.

For a moment, the poltergeist looked surprised. Then he began to cackle. "The skeleton has pranked me! Oh, I like the skeleton!"

"hey, i'm a prankster. it's what i do." He paused. "speaking of which, i'd appreciate if you could keep me a secret. i’ve got some plans, see, and getting found out would really mess up the surprise."

Peeves thought about that for a long moment.

"like, i got some pranks to pull on professor quirrell, and i don't want him trying to keep me out, you know?" Sans hoped this wasn't pushing it. When Peeves grinned like a madman, he knew he had said the right thing.

"If Sansy needs secrecy to prank, then he will stay secret!" Peeves said.

"i think you and i are going to get along," Sans remarked. "hey, can you help me find quirrell's classroom?"

\---

Harri woke up the next morning to find Sans still in her dorm, albeit hiding under her bed to avoid her classmates. As she apologized hastily for not sending him back, he assured her it was fine.

"hey," he said, as she drew on her magic to send him home, "you have defense against the dark arts first thing after breakfast, right?"

She did, in fact.

"cool," he said. "have fun!"

She was left to ponder over what he had meant all through breakfast. His tone of voice had been incredibly suspicious, and she had no idea what he had meant.

Of course, she figured it out the moment she stepped into Quirrell's classroom.

Every single one of Quirrell's protective talismans, his herbs and stones, his relics and runes- every single one was glued to the ceiling of the room. The furniture, books, and all other mundane objects seemed to have been left unscathed (except for some dried glue that must have dripped onto the desks); it was clear that this prank was for Quirrell.

It was also clear, but only to Harri, that Sans was behind it.

Quirrell himself was standing on one of the desks, trying to chip a bunch of garlic off the ceiling. "Oh, students," he said miserably upon noticing them. "Come in." He left the garlic alone and retreated to his desk.

\---

The Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors filed out of Quirrell's classroom trying not to giggle too hard. Harri saw Xion and Roxas, the twins who had helped her on the train, leaning on each other in silent paroxysms of laughter. The entire class had been spent watching Quirrel casting futile spells at the ceiling and pretending to do bookwork when he looked at them.

Harri wanted nothing more than to ask Sans how he'd pulled that off.

A ghost-like creature floated over the students' heads. "Ickle Firsties!" he said gleefully. "Did you have a productive class?"

"That must be Peeves!" Ron said, leaning over to Hermione and Harri. Neville was busy ducking away from a flock of paper airplanes chasing him.

"Oh, I read about him in Hogwarts: A History!" Hermione said, watching him torment Neville. "He certainly lived up to his reputation. Especially if he did that." She gestured back at the classroom.

Was it a good thing that Sans had made a friend, or should Harri be worried about her brother's partner in crime?

\---

It was a week later when something else unusual happened. Although this time it was less supernatural in nature, and instead merely a deviation from the usual.

Harri had never gotten anything in the post that came each morning that wasn't a letter from Hagrid. But that day, a giant package, carried by no less than six owls, was dropped in front of her during the morning mail. Her breakfast (seven strips of bacon, a stack of toast with butter and _chocoladehagel_ *, and a bowl of fruit that surely wasn't in season) was scattered all over the floor, but Harri was too interested in the package to be truly annoyed. It was long and thin, and another owl dropped a letter on top of it.

Tearing open the letter first, Harri nearly shrieked in joy. She shoved the only surviving piece of toast in her mouth, picked up the package, and left the table, towing Ron behind her. Hermione and Neville looked at each other, shrugged, and followed behind.

"It's a broomstick!' Harri whispered to a deeply confused Ron, who instantly straightened in interest. "But I have to keep it secret until my first game."

"What brand?" Ron asked, not bothering to keep his voice down.

"The note says it's a Nimbus Two Thousand, but I'm afraid I have no idea what that means."

Ron whistled, and Neville looked impressed. "Even I know what that is!" he said. "It's the best broom on the market!"

Squeezing the package, Harri gave a secret smile. It seemed Hagrid had gotten his dream to see her on a broomstick. She wondered if he'd been the one to convince MacGonagall of which broom to get her.

"They're giving you rather a lot of leeway, aren't they?" Hermione said, not looking altogether pleased. "I mean, you did break the rules about flying once already- no offense, Harri-"

"-None taken."

"-and it's hardly fair to give you a broomstick when no other first year is permitted one just because you flew well once."

"Also a position on the team!" Ron reminded her joyfully.

"Yeah, it's pretty dumb," Harri said. "Could absolutely have been a fluke. Beginner’s luck. But like I always say, never point out something that should be obvious. You get away with more that way."

"I don't think you've ever said that. What's the password again?" Neville said. The Fat Lady shook her head at him, looking discouraged.

"Pigfarts," Hermione sighed. "So immature."

They climbed through the doorway into the common room, then pulled out a table they could lay the package on. Harri opened it carefully, not wanting to damage the broomstick instead, as Ron fidgeted with anticipation. Finally, she pulled the brown paper open and-

"Wow," Ron sighed.

He was the only one who knew anything about brooms, but the others all had to agree with the sentiment (albeit reluctantly, in Hermione's case). It practically shone, polished and sleek. The handle looked like mahogany, and was probably desperately expensive, while the tail was long and neat- nothing like the haphazard witches' brooms Harri had seen in cartoons throughout her childhood, or even the messy practice brooms they'd used in flying class.

"Wow," Harri parroted. She looked down at the letter. "My first practice is at seven tonight…

“You guys want to come?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *chocoladehagel: directly translated from the dutch, this means chocolate hail. It's pretty much chocolate sprinkles, which I have only ever eaten on toast, because what's the point of trying to improve on perfection?
> 
> Peeves and Sans' meeting was something I've been looking forward too for a while, but I underestimated how difficult imitating Peeves' dialogue would be! I think it turned out okay, but it might still be kind of ooc, and I apologize for that. But they've teamed up now, and that's what matters.
> 
> AND SOON: QUIDDITCH. Quidditch was my absolute favorite part of the movie when I was a child (other than the snack trolley), so I have to include it.
> 
> Eagle-eyed readers may have noticed that perhaps some key events have been skipped. This is intentional. Plot Is Happening.
> 
> Also I have a tumblr now. It's at iawaitanidea.tumblr.com! I'm going to try to be more active on there so that you, readers, may be informed of what is going on with the fic. 
> 
> Here's hoping the next chapter gives me less trouble.


	12. In Which The Plot Finally Gets Started

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ
> 
> TW TRANSPHOBIA, MURDER, SUICIDE, J K ROWLING
> 
> PLEASE DON'T READ IF ANY OF THOSE ARE LIKELY TO AFFECT YOUR MENTAL HEALTH.
> 
> This chapter very nearly didn't exist. I have been locked in a moral dilemma of sorts, regarding the ethics of writing Harry Potter fanfiction, and thus indirectly promoting JKR. I do not want to promote a transphobe. The sort of misinformation and hatred that a person like her spreads is legitimately dangerous. People die because of these words. One report (found [ here ](https://www.forbes.com/sites/jamiewareham/2019/11/18/murdered-hanged-and-lynched-331-trans-people-killed-this-year/#75350e302d48) stated that 331 people under the trans umbrella (nonbinary, genderfluid, genderqueer, etc. I apologize if I have not included your label) were killed as a result of violence in 2019. This number does not include the many suicides of transgender people. The rates of attempted suicide are very high. Trying to find conclusive numbers was nigh impossible, but it ranged between 22% to 50% in some countries. I can provide more statistics, facts, and articles, but. Honestly this research makes me really, really sad.
> 
> So yeah. This was a difficult decision. After a lot of discussion with my beta, I decided to keep writing this. If only to spit in JKR's propaganda with trans lesbian Ginny, and maybe educate some people. So, uh. Transphobes are not welcome here. This is a safe space. Please, those of you under the transgender umbrella: stay safe.
> 
> Happy reading.

Sans hadn't let slip to Harri just how worried he was about Quirrell. His little sister may have understood that the professor with a second SOUL posed a danger, but he doubted she comprehended its extent. He'd only caught a glimpse of the man that morning as he'd snuck away from the scene of his prank (which was a damn masterclass in shenanigans if he did say so himself), but it was enough to chill him to the _bones_.

Quirrell didn't have a second SOUL. That would have been bad enough, but no. He had a piece of a second SOUL.

Sans couldn't understand it. Breaking a SOUL was a death sentence. SOULs simply couldn't be torn into pieces like a piece of paper. They were important. Sans knew more than most about SOULs, and even he couldn't fathom a way to do what someone- whether Quirrell or the owner of the SOUL shard- had done. What sort of horrifying magic had wizards conjured that could do this?

The worst thing, though, was that the soul shard seemed familiar, as though Sans had seen it before. But he couldn't imagine where or how.

If Sans couldn't figure out what was going on, then Harri could be in danger. That was unacceptable.

He'd spent the next weeks buried in research. Locked in an old, abandoned laboratory that most had forgotten ever existed, poring over dusty textbooks, reading through notebooks written in a language only he recognized. Of the information he had gathered over the years, almost all of it was unrelated to his current mystery. If he had been looking into energy sources or concentrated magic or alternate dimensions then he might have been able to get somewhere. As it was, every scrap of information he could scavenge for related to SOULS was about whole SOULS.

He threw a book across the room and left. It was almost dinner time anyways, and he clearly wasn't getting anything done. Maybe he just needed a good meal. Or a bottle of ketchup. Or both.

Papyrus seemed to understand that he wasn't in the mood for conversation, and kept a lively chatter going as they ate. His training with Undyne had just begun, it was going well, wasn't his spaghetti good, Undyne was an expert chef, and so on. Sans listened and nodded in all the right places.

"-AND I MADE A NEW FRIEND, SANS! I THINK YOU'D LIKE HIM. HE'S VERY SMART."

"oh? what's his name?"

"FLOWEY! HE IS A FLOWER!"

"that's cool, bro."

All things considered, Sans could probably treat the SOUL fragment like a full SOUL. And if he could do that, he could treat whatever was going on with Quirrel like a normal possession (if you could call something like a possession normal). They were pretty far leaps in logic, he would admit. But if it worked? Then Harri would be safe. And that was worth it.

"SANS! YOU LOOK HAPPIER! HAS MY SPAGHETTI CHEERED YOU UP?"

"yeah," Sans said, spearing a meatball with his fork. "i'm having a ball."

"WAS THAT A PUN?"

\---

Sans was feeling decidedly unhappy. He'd talked Harri into summoning him to let him wander the halls of Hogwarts a few times now (ostensibly to cause general havoc, which was an added bonus), and he'd seen Professor Quirrell a few times now. None of these occasions had given him any confidence in the man's innocence.

For one thing, all three times he'd seen the man, Quirrell had been wandering the halls in an extremely suspicious manner. Maybe he was supposed to be patrolling, but it looked to Sans more like he was hanging around the third floor corridor.

The one that students had been explicitly banned from entering.

That was, in a word, sketchy. But the most recent occasion had been much sketchier than usual. Quirrell had made his way up and down the hall a few times, as he'd done before, but then he'd cast a spell that Sans didn't know. When the spell seemed to bring favourable results, he'd opened a door and snuck inside, then burst out again looking terrified.

When Sans had done a little research into the unknown spell, he'd learned that it was meant to sense the presence of others. Apparently it didn't work on monsters.

So Quirrell was doing something in the corridor that no one was supposed to enter, something that he didn't want anyone to know about. And in the room that he was scouting out, there was something frightening.

Sans wasn't particularly interested in that room. But he was very interested in what Quirrell was up to. At this point, he was pretty sure that one of two things was going on.

Option one: Whatever was possessing Quirrell was controlling him, making him do suspicious, probably evil stuff.

Option two: Quirrell was letting that SOUL shard live in his head, and was doing the suspicious (still probably evil) stuff entirely under his own power.

Either way, Sans needed to put a stop to it. The teachers seemed to be completely oblivious to the entire situation, and it had the potential to put innocent children in danger.

But possession was... funky. Dangerous. Sure, the SOUL shard hadn't wrapped around Quirrell's SOUL- if it had, there would be no getting it out without killing him- but it was still in him. A thing at rest tends to stay at rest; Newton was talking about motion, but it worked for SOULs too. Sans didn't know how it had gotten in Quirrel's head, but he was going to have a devil of a time getting it out. And he couldn't even guess what the consequences could be for Quirrell. At best, he was going to be seriously confused, more so if he was being controlled. The much more likely scenario was that Quirrell would be comatose for a while.

Sans really hoped this wasn't going to kill him.

However this all went down, Quirrell wasn't going to be teaching for a while. Which meant he'd be away from this school and _away from Harri_. Which meant Harri would be safe.

So that was why Sans was here, hiding in the shadows of the third floor corridor, waiting for the man of the hour. Or past week. Whatever.

Sure enough, after less than half an hour, Quirrell slunk into the hallway. He glanced around, looking over his shoulder. Breathing a sigh of relief when he didn't see anyone, he took off his hood, and placed a hand on the doorknob.

Sans stepped forward and cleared his throat.

Quirrell's shriek was probably loud enough to summon a few staff members. Sans was going to have to work fast if he wanted to retain his anonymity. A chime sounded as his eye light changed, flaring a bright blue.

" _do you wanna have a bad time?_ "

The landscape changed abruptly, darkness flaring out around the two, Quirrell's SOUL lighting up a dim cyan, and a faint music could almost be heard. All this was familiar to Sans. More important was the SOUL shard that also became visible, a bitter red thing intangibly connected to Quirrell.

Sans didn't waste time on pointless dialogue or a polite exchange of attacks. He grabbed the SOUL shard with blue magic, and pulled it away from Quirrell. The connection between the two SOULS stretched like a rubber band, and Sans could feel its resistance. He summoned a- a Blaster, and let it blaze.

The SOUL shard snapped away from Quirrell. The shockwave of the destroyed spell sent both him and Sans tumbling to the ground. Sans lost his grip on the SOUL shard, and watched it go spinning away. Even as he leapt to his feet to chase after it, he heard a shout.

Professor MacGonagall. She hadn't seen him yet, but if he didn't get out of here, there would be no avoiding discovery.

With a last look at the prone Quirrell, Sans teleported away, back to the Gryffindor girl's dorm where Harri was sleeping.

And then he promptly flopped down on the floor.

"fuck," he said sucicently, too quiet to wake any of the children up. That had not gone according to plan. Sure, Quirrell was no longer possessed, but now there was a rogue SOUL shard wandering around the school. He had no idea what sort of powers that thing would have, and even not being constrained to a body could make it dangerous. If Sans had been able to destroy it while he was still holding it with his blue magic, then it would have been a different story altogether. The blasters had been designed to obliterate anything (and oh, wasn't that a mournful thought), but he could hardly destroy the SOUL shard if he couldn't find it.

He needed to tell Harri everything. She could be in even more danger now.

\---

Quidditch was _awesome_.

As fun as flying was, the added challenges of watching the other players, the bludgers, and the snitch were what really made the game. It was a test of one's ability to multitask, and Harri loved it.

Her friends watched in the stands as Oliver Wood and Fred and George Weasley batted bludgers covered in padding at her. The exercise was meant to teach her to dodge, but it had turned into an overcomplicated game of tag. Oliver had been hit in the head three times, and Harri was beginning to wonder why he was captain.

Flying around the goalposts to avoid a bludger, Harri heard Dumbledore's voice, amplified over the pitch as though through loudspeakers.

" _All students are to return to their dorms immediately. Supper will be provided there. All club meetings and Quidditch practices are cancelled._ "

Oliver Wood swore furiously as he landed his broom; Quidditch seemed to be the most important thing in the poor man's life. Fred and George came up beside him and each patted a shoulder, apparently used to Wood's passion. Harri decided that the team captain was in capable hands and joined her friends in the castle.

"What do you think could have happened?" Hermione said, briskly heading in the direction of the Gryffindor common rooms. Neville nearly tripped over his own feet trying to keep up, and Harri and Ron just shrugged at each other.

"Maybe," Harri began thoughtfully, "there's some sort of problem in the Forbidden Forest? It has to be forbidden for a reason, right?"

"In _Hogwarts: A History_ it says that the forest is filled with magical creatures. I believe that we can presume that some of them are dangerous to students."

"Wait..." Neville stepped forward. "What sort of dangerous magical creatures?"

"Lions and tigers and bears, oh my..." Harri said with a decisive nod. Neville blanched. "I'm kidding. It's a quote from a movie."

"Many of the creatures in the Forbidden Forest hide from wizards," Hermione admitted ruefully, "so no one really knows what its entire population is."

Harri nodded thoughtfully. "Unsettling!" she declared.

In the Gryffindor dorm, things were no calmer. It seemed that the entire house had gathered in the common room, older students trying to soothe younger. Anxiety was high. Harri squeezed her way through the crowd, ordering her friends to tell her anything she missed while she changed out of her Quidditch uniform.

The girl's common room was nearly silent. Harri opened her trunk and started rummaging through it for clean clothes. Behind her, someone cleared their throat. Turning around, Harri saw Sans. He looked... solemn. It was a strange expression on the perpetually smiling skeleton.

"Sans?" Something occurred to her. "Sans, is all this you?"

He sat down on Hermione's trunk, beside her. "i think i have to come clean, kiddo." He took an unnecessary breath. "i went to check on quirrell. and... you were right. he's got some extra soul in him. but it was only a piece of a soul. i woulda been worried about that, but it gets worse."

Harri's eyes were wide.

"See, i was spying on him. and he was acting real shifty. hanging around in that third floor corridor that no one's supposed to be in, looking for something that no one's supposed to find. so i decided- well. i took that soul shard out of him. and, uh... seems like it took a lot outta him. knocked him into a coma."

"You killed my teacher?" Harri said, in the quietest shout she could manage. She looked horrified.

"coma. look, i'm still level one."

"That doesn't make me feel any better!" Harri said, jumping up. "You nearly killed someone! I can't-"

"kiddo." Sans held his hands up in supplication. "just hear me out. then you can send me away." 

Looking away from him, Harri crossed her arms.

"i taught you to fight because the world can be awful, and i want to protect you from it. i'm telling you about this because whatever was using quirrell was only a piece of a soul. and i wasn't able to destroy it. it got away, and i fully expect that it will keep trying to achieve whatever its goal is." Harri stayed quiet. Sans sighed. "i get it, kiddo. i messed up. i should have told you about this before i did it. but it's done."

He disappeared in a flash of frustrated light.

Harri sat down on her trunk, sweaty uniform entirely forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....have I jumped the shark?
> 
> I've definitely abandoned the original plot, but trust me. We're just getting started.
> 
> *hastily pulls curtain over plot board, which is styled as a conspiracy board, red strings and all*
> 
> Tumblr is iawaitanidea.tumblr.com. The fancy link refuses to work, so I'm just doing this the old fashioned way.


	13. The Bonus Chapter That Wasn't

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact! This began its life as a bonus chapter that I was going to post about a week after the last chapter. It hasn't changed much from its original plans; it gives us a peek into some other characters stories, it's a little bit shorter than usual, and it's structured a bit differently. But it it is now the next chapter. Some Stuff Happened in my personal life that's left me feeling pretty drained, so to avoid the stress of having to make a whole other chapter, this is now a Chapter. All that means for you is that you get your irregularly scheduled update a bit earlier than you otherwise might. But for me, it takes the weight off my back for a month, and gives me time to. Fuckin. Figure my damn life out.
> 
> Thanks to my beta insignificantramblings for all your help. I've forgotten to thank you the last few chapters, but they've beta'd every chapter.
> 
> I like parts of this chapter. The story is finally getting to the places I've been looking forward to, and that means I get to start introducing my favorite characters!
> 
> Happy reading!

There was a shadow in the castle.

It wasn't a ghost, although the ghosts would be the first to notice it. It wasn't a spell. It wasn't a monster, or a magical creature.

It was something much worse.

It had taken all the power it could from its host before it had been torn away. The wards on the castle could not harm it, now that it was past their barriers. And the walls could not hold it, so it could search without obstacles.

The students could not see it, though they shook with fear when it passed. The teachers could not see it, though they felt the chill that it left in its wake.

It was a creature of the cold and the hidden, of old, rotten evil left to fester. And now it was free, and its enemy was close enough to kill.

But not yet, oh no. Not yet. It could not strike in this form, a soul without a body, a shade. No, first it would find what its useless host had been too afraid to seize, and then claim the strength that was its due. Then it would attack, and burn down anything in its path.

\---

As Dumbledore's quill scratched across parchment, Minerva paced the length of the headmaster's office. The portraits on the walls were either listening intently to the conversation being held, or off gossiping about the eventful night.

"The doctors can't tell what spell was used to attack him! They can't even tell what it did to put him in a coma! It's not a sleeping spell, nor any sort of paralysis. It didn't attack his organs..." Filius trailed off, shaking his head.

"More importantly," Minerva said, "why would anyone attack Quirrell? He never did anything to warrant any malice, he didn't have any unique knowledge-- was this a random attack?"

Pomona stood up. "Are the students in danger?"

This set off another round of near-panicked questions and suggestions, throughout which Dumbledore and Severus stayed suspiciously silent. Quirrell had been attacked by someone whose means and intentions were absolutely unknown. How the _hell_ were they supposed to protect their students from becoming the next victims?

Minerva finally sat down with a huff, frustration covering genuine distress. Finally, Serverus cleared his throat. "I have reason to suspect that Quirrell may have been working for You-Know-Who."

This laid a stunned hush over the room. And not only because at one point or another, all of Severus' colleagues had had reason to suspect that he was working for Voldemort. Quirrell? Poor, meek Quirrell, an agent of the Dark Lord?

"He's been trying to get the Philosopher's Stone," Severus explained, sounding irritated. "I've caught him in the third-floor corridor eight times since the beginning of school."

Dumbledore looked up from his writing to speak. "He is the reason why I asked you all to lay protections on the hiding place of the Stone."

"More than once, when he thinks he's alone, I've heard him talking to someone," Snape continued. "It would seem that he found a way to bring You-Know-Who past the castle's wards. I would not be surprised if You-Know-Who grew impatient with Quirrell's failures and took matters into his own hands. We've always suspected that the Dark Lord knew spells that the doctors at St. Mungo's couldn't even dream of."

Pomona shook her head. "But... You-know-Who has been dead for eleven years!"

"He was a master of the Dark Arts," Dumbledore said. "His body may have perished, but there are... ways to allow one's spirit to persist. They are evil, evil things, but if Voldemort learned them, he would not hesitate. To the end, he was obsessed with immortality."

Fury growing in her eyes, Minerva stood up slowly. "If you suspected, even for a moment, that the man was working for You-Know-Who, then why on earth did you let the Stone stay here?"

"Why did you let the man teach?" Pomona added. "If your suspicions are correct, then the students have all been in danger since September!"

"And now your irresponsibility has let You-Know-Who loose in the school!" Minerva said. She sat down, shaken by a sudden thought. "Harriette. She'll be in greater danger here than anywhere else. She needs to be moved."

"She could be expelled," Severus suggested. He sounded far too pleased with the notion.

Dumbledore lay down his quill. "There is no need for such drastic behavior." He rolled up the parchment he'd been writing on throughout the conversation and waved his wand to pour out the sealing wax in the shape of the school's crest. "I have hired a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who will have a vested interest in keeping Harriette safe. He will fill Quirrell's position, and also be responsible for watching over her. I may suggest that he tutor her in defensive spells. It will not seem unnatural to her; she understands her position as a celebrity comes with some danger. There is no need to let her know the true peril she is in."

"Who have you chosen?" Filius asked suspiciously. Usually, the staff was consulted during the hiring of a new professor.

Beatifically, Dumbledore smiled. "I believe you already know him, Severus. His name is Remus Lupin."

\---

Remus sat at his dining table, idly flipping through the _Daily Prophet_. He didn't have anything better to do, as no Muggle schools had needed substitute teachers that week. Glancing over the page advertising jobs, he circled a handful of possible options. Working as a substitute really didn't pay enough, especially with his... schedule.

There was a tap at the rain-soaked window, and Remus looked up to see a barn owl sitting patiently on the sill, holding a letter in its beak. Opening the window, he offered the bird a bit of bacon. It dropped the letter, took the snack, and flew back off into the rain.

The parchment envelope was damp when Remus picked it up, but the ink on the back in which his name was written hadn't begun to smear. He flipped it over. Stamped in wax was the Hogwarts crest.

Remus was initially puzzled. Why was Dumbledore contacting him after all these years? And if not his old headmaster, who else had reason to write to him? It was all rather bewildering. But there was only one way to answer his questions. He tore open the envelope with a butter knife. A glance showed that it was indeed signed by Dumbledore, and he sat down to read it.

_Remus Lupin,_

_Unforeseen circumstances have left Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in need of a Professor to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. In light of your qualifications, we would like to offer you this position. We understand that this offer comes at an inconvenient time, as the school year has already started. Despite this, we hope you will consider._

_However, I will admit to having ulterior motives in hiring you. These reasons are too sensitive to be sent through the post. Let it suffice to say that they involve the last remaining member of the Potter family._

There was more to the letter, but Remus couldn't focus on it. He couldn't decide whether to be relieved, furious, or terrified. A stable job for a year was nothing to turn one's nose up at, but why hadn't Dumbledore offered this before if Remus had the qualifications referenced in the letter?

He knew exactly why. Having a werewolf on Hogwarts’ staff would be an unpopular decision. So what was the reasoning behind the offer? Had Dumbledore seen his former student's poverty and decided to play savior? The decision didn’t make any sense. Every pureblood parent-- and most of the others too, if Remus was being honest with himself-- would pull their children out of Hogwarts if Remus’ furry little problem ever became common knowledge.

But it was that enigmatic reference to Harriette that truly left Remus shaken. She must have started school. She was eleven now, wasn't she? Merlin, it had been so long. So Harriette was at Hogwarts now. And something had to have happened to her- or they were worried that something would happen to her. Maybe she had just turned out to be a troublemaker like James.

No, that couldn't be it. MacGonagall was still working at Hogwarts. She'd dealt with the full, unmitigated chaos of the Marauders for seven years; surely she could handle one Potter.

The thought of his old friends curled Remus' back with the weight of loss. Betrayed and betrayers, dead or as good as... Remus had lost everyone he loved over the past ten years. Even his parents were gone now. To be reunited with the last survivor of the happiest time of Remus' life seemed too good to be true. It would keep him from lingering on the bitter past. Maybe it would even sweeten those painful memories. And if he was working at Hogwarts, surely someone could provide him with a Wolfsbane potion. Full moons would be safe. Harriette would be in no danger from him, animagus or not.

He sighed, picking up the letter to finish reading it. It seemed he'd already made his choice.

\---

There was another shadow, though.

Dark, darker, yet darker still.

This one was not as malicious. But it could not touch the world as the shade in Hogwarts could. It lived between the worlds.

Death could not touch it. Life could not touch it. It was scattered across time and space.

But it could watch.

It could see its children. In rare moments, they could see it. Though whether they remembered him enough to understand what they saw, it did not know. It could see its newest child, its child by the bonds of love and choice, the child who did not even know its name.

It did not matter. The child was of its family now. It would protect her as it protected all its children.

It could see the shade. It could see the shade's malice. And the shade would not see it.

Not until it was far too late.

It would protect its children, as it had done and failed to do for all of time and space.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you know Undertale- no, that's not quite right. If you've spent any time with Undertale theories, you know what the epilogue is going on about. If you don't I am very sorry because that isn't going to be explained in any more clarity for a good long while. I'm keeping that out of the tags until a proper introduction can be arranged.
> 
> I like obfuscation.
> 
> Remus is here and thank god for that. I love him. I love him so much. I'm here for some good ol' werewolfy melodrama. Also he's literally the only defense against the dark arts teacher I respect. He's one of the. Like. Four teachers in the entire series I respect. Why does Hogwarts have such shit teachers? (It's because the headmaster doesn't respect kids and a school follows the culture of the principal.)
> 
> Next chapter will be out within a month probably. I make no promises but I have high hopes that this is a schedule I can keep up. I talk very slightly more on tumblr, at [ this link](https://iawaitanidea.tumblr.com/). Check that out for updates (maybe), shitty memes (I should do that more), and incoherent rants (definitely).


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